Irish Problem
by Diabolicael
Summary: Adeliene Creed is a crime lab tech. This is the story of her life in L.A. and her complex relationship with DDA David McNorris. R
1. First Impressions

**Okay. I know the show has been off the air for quite a while, but i still have the DVDs and i love it. been watching alot recently. I don;t own any of it... if i did, it would still be running, dammit. Aidy is mine own invention, hope you enjoy her as much as i do. Here's chappy one.**

**P.S. As some of you already know, I can survive only on a steady supply of reviews... or babies' tears. You've been warned.**

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**Irish Problem**

Deputy District Attorney David McNorris was grinding his teeth so hard everyone else in the room could hear it. "Can't you go any faster?" he demanded for the third time. Joel had long since gone into mediator mode.

"Counselor," he began, his voice the epitome of reasonable. But the DDA was having none of it. He raised one beefy hand, palm out, to halt Joel's good intentioned interference.

"We need this DNA," the prosecutor told the lab tech, as though she were unaware of the fact until now. She did not even glance up.

Adeliene Creed had only been working at this particular L.A. crime lab for three months and this was her first contact with any of the three men now hovering around her work area. Joel and his partner, Fearless she thought she'd heard him called, seemed like good guys. Even though they knew how important the DNA results on this case - a triple homicide where all three victims were under the age of twelve - were, they still managed to stay calm. DDA McNorris, on the other hand, seemed about as calm as a tightrope walker on meth. She, herself, appreciated Joel's attempts at peacekeeping, but it was more for McNorris's benefit than her own. She would not have returned his aggression no matter what he said. She understood, she thought, he was passionate about his work and this kind of case upset everyone within hearing distance.

That did not mean she was not going to say _anything._ If the boys upstairs were under the impression they could walk all over the lab techs, it was time for them to be disillusioned. Her predecessor might have been meek, but she certainly was not.

"You don't say?" she snarked, quietly. He drew a breath and she knew he was going to launch into a lecture on the importance of the case and how everything hung on these DNA results and she really hadn't the patience to listen to it. "Is Cotton always this much fun?" she asked Joel, effectively cutting off the lawyer before he even got out word one. Joel had the good grace to suppress his smile, Fearless did not. Across the room, her lab "partner" and fledgling friend Daschle Hermes snorted and tried not to laugh.

In the half hour that the two detectives and the attorney had been loitering in her lab, Adeliene had referred to Mr. McNorris as "Powder", "Casper, the Surly Ghost", and "Whitey". That last one had sent Daschle sputtering into the hallway so as not to draw down the wrath of the DDA on him with his uncontrollable laughter.

McNorris sighed in annoyance. "Why do you keep-"

She turned towards her, leaning over the arm of her chair, and cut him off mid-statement, knowing what the full question was. "You're extremely pale," she informed the man before her. Those misbegotten blue eyes of his widened slightly in surprise at her bluntness. She continued, determined to give him a verbal smack to the back of his white-blonde head - however facetious it was. "Paler than most people. I bet people use you as a marker at the beach when they go swimming." She added, looking slightly passed him, brow furrowed as if searching for something off in the distance, "We were three blankets down from that clear guy."

She heard Daschle's head drop to his desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Joel cover his mouth and turn away nonchalantly. McNorris was staring at her with a mixture of irritation, surprise, and piqued interest; his pale rosy lips quirked fractionally upward in one corner.

"How much longer?" Fearless asked, his voice smooth and undemanding, drawing them out of their stare-down.

"Eight minutes longer than it would have taken me without Tab A over here-" she jerked her head back and to the left, indicated the DDA hovering over her like a vulture. "-breathing down my neck."

"Tab A?" the Irishman repeated, questioningly. She glanced back at him, face a mask of bland sweetness.

"It's a nicer way of saying you're a dick," she informed him, lightly. Joel, Fearless, and her cohort chuckled quietly. McNorris only gave her a look of mild annoyance. Aidy turned back to her computer, the printer at it's side having just started up. "Why don't you all go wait in the hallway, so I can actually do my job?" she said. It was phrased as a suggestion, but her tone made it an order. The three men filed out silently, DDA McNorris, bringing up the rear, glanced back at her once before exiting the room.

Daschle rolled over to her on his desk chair, chocolate eyes wide with shock and sparkling with amusement. "Whitey?" he practically squeaked. She grinned at his reaction. Daschle was probably six foot two (courtesy of his African American father), with those chocolate eyes, glossy black hair, and mocha skin (gifts from his Latino mother). Sweet and funny, the man was the very definition of the term heartbreaker. Lucky for Adeliene, he was also very happily married with three equally gorgeous children - Maya, RJ (Rufus Jerome, after Daschle's father), and Gaelen. She knew all this because the man kept a large family portrait on his desk and was exceedingly proud of his wife, a teacher, and children to the point of obsession. It was rather endearing. She had teased him over the photo, asking what it was that had happened slightly to the left of the camera that made everyone so happy. Daschle had seemed to decide at that moment that he was going to love Adeliene. Platonically, of course.

Three days later, he had invited her to dinner with his family. The littlest one, Gaelen, had latched onto her like an adorable parasite and had taken to sending crayon masterpieces to her through his father. Daschle's wife, Megan, was bright and spunky and possessed the same kind of quirky sense of humor as her husband. All three children had inherited their mother's glowing green eyes and father's good looks. In ten years or so, the world had better watch out, Aidy mused.

"Are you trying to make enemies already?" Daschle demanded with a smile. She rolled her eyes.

"If it keeps McNorris and others like him from coming down here and busting my chops, then I don't care if he wants to burn my likeness in effigy," she told the dark man.

"Busting your chops?" he snorted incredulously. She waved him back to his station, where he was working on trace evidence from a separate crime. Ten minutes later, she found herself in the hallway, DNA results on the triple homicide case in hand. She passed them to McNorris, noting the way his pale eyebrows went up in an expression of hopefulness.

"You've got your bad guy," she told him, then looked to Joel and Fearless. "Go get 'em."

The detectives gave her smiles that were so similar, it gave credence to the idea that the more time you spend with someone, the more like them you become. David McNorris seemed to deflate like a balloon, he relaxed so suddenly. Those ice blue eyes thawed a bit and he actually smiled a little.

"Thank you," he said, voice much warmer than it had been mere minutes before. She gave him a forgiving half smile in return and nodded in acknowledgement, then returned to her lab. It felt good to get the work done and know that it would be put to good use by the boys upstairs. The feeling was fleeting at best, though, as there were still dozens of cases to process and more coming in everyday. Still, chalk one up for the good guys.


	2. All Hallows Eve

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"Halloween, _best_ night of the year," Aidy insisted, pounding her fist on her computer table for emphasis. Daschle laughed, eyes twinkling.

"What about Christmas?" he countered. The girl snorted.

"Bah!"

"Bah humbug?" the mulatto man inquired, incredulous.

"No, not bah humbug. Just bah," Aidy told him. "I like Christmas. It's about good will and joy… joyfulness. But Halloween, man, that's just about fun and candy and _fifteen_ different kinds of awesome!"

"So, I guess I can tell Gaelen that you _will_ be joining us for trick or treating, then?" The other tech offered hopefully.

"Heck yeah!" Aidy laughed. "I'll even wear a costume."

"Slutty pumpkin?" Daschle was a big fan of the show How I Met Your Mother and had subsequently indoctrinated Adeliene into the Tao of Barney. She snorted again and shook her head.

"Not a slutty anything," she insisted. "Do I look like the kind of girl who feels comfortable dressing like that?"

Daschle put a hand to his chin and gave her a critical once over with those warm, brown eyes of his. "You look like the kind of woman-" he lightly stressed the word. "-who _should_ be comfortable dressing in anything."

She rolled her eyes with another head shake and turned back to her computer, dismissing him from the discussion. In reality she had turned so that he would not see the flush she knew had risen in her cheeks. With rich, curly brown hair that sported attractive fiery highlights, brown eyes even darker than Daschle's and a pale complexion with just a hint of olive coloring to belie her half-Mediterranean heritage, Aidy knew she was not _un_attractive. But that was about as far as she ventured into the realm of beauty. Daschle was just one of those guys who thought all women were beautiful. Another reason he was a heartbreaker. If she didn't like Megan so much, she might have kidnapped the tall, dark, and handsome bastard.

When she pulled up to the Hermes residence at just after five that evening, Daschle's progeny were running around in the yard, playing tag with some of the neighbor kids. Gaelen separated himself from the group and bolted for Aidy's car, barely letting her get out of the vehicle before launching himself into her arms. It was a good thing that, at four years old, the genes for size he'd undoubtedly inherited from his father had not yet switched on. She would have thrown her back out. She lifted the exuberant child and rested him on her hip, legs around her waist. He squeezed her in a quick hug.

"I'm a pirate!" he squealed proudly.

"I see that," the girl told him, smiling broadly. Indeed he was. Black buccaneer's boots, red stripped pantaloons, puffy shirt, hook, eye patch, bandana, hat (complete with skull and crossbones), painted on five o'clock shadow, and a fierce eyeliner scar running down one cheek. The very embodiment of all things piratey, right down to the fake parrot strapped somewhat precariously on his shoulder. _Yeah, that thing's coming off before the night is over._

He wiggled and she set him down; the boy ran back to join his friends. The game of tag had gone on without him, but it's not really the kind of game that requires a time out when one of the players leaves the field. Maya, the eldest of the Hermes three, was It. She chased the others around the yard, long scarf flowing behind her. She, Aidy assumed from the spectacles, red and orange scarf, and lightning bolt scar across her forehead, was Harry Potter. RJ, two years younger than Maya's eleven, was obviously a ninja of some kind, complete with sword, red sash tied around his waist, and tabbies on his feet. Also running around like little crazy people were two pink princesses, a Spiderman, a very tiny, very adorable cow, and a werewolf who looked to be a little older than Maya.

Daschle rose from his seat on the porch steps of his home and walked towards her as she approached him, meeting half way down the path between porch and driveway. He was decked out, quite appropriately, as Zorro. Aidy smiled at her friend and made a show of checking him out. He lifted his arms and turned once to give her a full view, then struck a cocky pose, one hand resting on the hilt of his plastic sword.

"Am I a dashing rogue or what?" he asked with a grin. The girl nodded.

"Oh yes, very debonair," she agreed. Daschle motioned for her to give him a turn as well and she did, though without his flair. She wore a pair of brown penny loafers, yellow plaid pants, white lab coat complete with pocket protector filled with pens (in case she had to write_ a lot_), big black framed glasses with tape around the middle, and her hair slicked back into a ponytail at the base of her neck.

"You're a geek!" Deschle exclaimed with a laugh. Aidy grinned.

"It was either this or an actual lab rat," she told the man, bringing another laugh from him. The screen door slapped shut and Aidy turned to see Megan come bouncing down the stairs, red pigtails flopping around her head. She wore a ridiculously cutesy dress with more frills than should be legal. Daschle looped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"She's my damsel in distress," he told her partner proudly.

"Nice," the girl complimented. Megan smiled brightly, then turned her attention to the children in her yard.

"Okay, troops! We're movin' out!" she called. The kids cheered and gathered together on the sidewalk, each holding their candy bags. Megan took the lead and started them off down the street. Aidy and Dashcle brought up the rear.

"Where are all the other kids' parents?"

"They are out getting party supplies."

The girl lifted an eyebrow. "Party?"

The dark man grinned mischievously. "Oh, didn't I tell you? After trick or treats, we are having a little grown up party, while the kid's watch movies in the basement."

"Dash, I'm fairly certain you understood that I am not a social butterfly," Aidy began, her voice betraying a hint of irritation.

"You don't have to be. It's just a bunch of people from the neighborhood. Nothing big," he assured her. She still looked dubious. Hanging around with a bunch of people she didn't know was not really her idea of a good time. "We've got Pictionary."

"I'm in." He'd exploited one of her greatest weaknesses, corny parlor games. Maybe it would be tolerable after all.

Two hours later, the smaller kids were having trouble keeping their bags, now heavy with candy, from dragging the ground as they walked. The sun would be going down soon, which would end the candy caravan and send them all back to the Hermes' house and a massive sugar rush when they dug into the bags like there was no tomorrow.

"Hey, look!" Daschle said beside her, pointing at a little boy dressed as a wizard. It took Aidy a moment to realize that her friend was not pointing at the child, but at the man who walked along behind him. Detective Joel Stevens grinned as he saw them approach. His son rushed up to the door of the next house, along with the entire troupe the lab techs chaperoned. Daschle offered his hand as Joel looked over his costume.

"I feel underdressed now," the cop stated lightly. Beside him his pretty blonde wife smiled. He introduced her as Kelly, gesturing to his son, hidden among the throng of candy seekers, identifying him as Willie. Joel looked Adeliene up and down and his brow furrowed in feigned confusion. "Where's your costume, Aidy?"

"Oh, har har," she responded sarcastically. Joel had the kind of easy laugh that drew a person in and made them feel right at home. His wife's quiet titter, on the other hand, sounded tense and forced. The lab tech did not feel any kind of animosity coming off her, it just seemed like maybe existing was a bit of a struggle for the other woman.

The Stevens' walked with their group as they continued down the block. Megan and Daschle were checking their watches and deciding just how much longer they were going to stay out before calling it a night. Willie came running back to his parents, beaming about how he scored at the last house. Aidy smiled over his excitement.

"Geez," she said quietly to Daschle. "Remember when candy was the best thing in the world?" The dark man nodded. Joel's phone rang and he answered it. Aidy could see how Kelly tensed up.

"Hello, you've reached the voicemail for Detective Joel Stevens," he intoned, blandly. "If you need help, you can call Joel's partner, Detective Fearless Bobby Smith who said that he was not going to bother Joel tonight. Beep." He paused while the person who called, obviously Fearless, responded. "I'm trick or treating with Willie and Kelly," Joel informed him. He grinned and turned to his son. "Willie, can I give some of your candy to Fearless?"

Aidy held back her laughter as the child looked abjectly horrified at the very idea. "No!" he declared, clutching his bag a little closer. Joel chuckled in mock surprise.

"No?" He turned away slightly, unconsciously giving his attention back to his partner. "Sorry, no candy." Kelly gently admonished her son for his stinginess as Joel asked Fearless what was going on. From the way his expression suddenly sobered, Aidy knew it was bad news. He glanced over at his wife and her shoulders dropped in disappointment. Her eyes misted over so fast, it occurred to the lab tech that this was a severely depressed woman. No stranger to crushing depression herself, Adeliene felt a new and profound sense of pity for the good-natured detective, not to mention his young son. Joel flipped his phone closed and put on his mediator face. He bent down to be on eye level with his boy.

"You think you got enough there sport?" he asked, coaxingly. The child scoffed and took a step back.

"No way!" he told his father firmly. Joel sighed regretfully.

"Well," he told the boy gently. "I think it's gonna have to be enough."

"Why?" Willie demanded.

"Because something bad has happened to a friend and I gotta go," the detective said. Willie looked concerned.

"To Fearless?" he asked, his young voice pinched with worry. Joel shook his head.

"No," he assured his son. "Not Fearless, somebody else. And your dad has to go see if he can help."

"I hate your job," the boy whined despondently, eyes falling to the pavement. Aidy felt a momentary flare of annoyance at the child.

"I know ya do, buddy," Joel said, comfortingly. Which the lab tech found more annoying. It was not her place to tell others how to raise their children, but the kid was old enough to understand that his father had a very important job to do and it was not only pointless to get upset over it, but also ignorant and unfair. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling.

"I'll take him the next block," Kelly told her husband, with forced lightness. The man looked up at his wife. Only Joel's eyes showed how vehemently he was against this idea.

"No," he said, sounding reasonable. "He's had enough."

"No, I haven't!" Willie insisted. Aidy wondered what it was that caused the underlying tension with this small family. Kelly smiled with a small laugh.

"I'll take him the next block," she repeated.

"Yeah, one more block," the boy echoed.

"Are you sure?" Joel asked. She nodded. It was at this point Daschle felt the need to interject.

"They can come with us," he assured the cop, with a smile that lied about how uncomfortable watching the exchange between husband and wife and child and been. "We're only going a couple more blocks anyway."

Joel stood straight and gave the darker man a look of thanks. He suddenly smiled and bent to kiss his son on the forehead. "Alright, have fun," he ordered the child. He leaned over the short wizard and kissed his wife's cheek. He held up a hand in a parting wave to the other adults and headed off down the sidewalk.

"Hey, Joel," Kelly called after him. He stopped and tuned back. "Who's the friend?"

"It's a paramedic," Joel told her, his tone telling her that it wasn't something she need be concerned about. "Don't worry, okay? Bye." And then he was gone.

The group trouped on down the street, Megan engaging Kelly in motherly conversation. When it came time to end the quest of sweets, the red-head invited the blonde and her son to their Halloween party. After a momentary refusal, Kelly gave in. Aidy thought it would do her good, being around people in a friendly setting, hopefully take her mind off whatever it was that had her and Joel wound up like springs.

Adeliene herself had a surprisingly good time at the party. She led her team to victory at both Pictionary and Charades. At the end of the night, she left with at least a pound of candy herself, that Gaelen had forced upon her as she walked out the door. She blamed the massive intake of processed sugar for the youngster still being up at well after one in the morning. The lab tech ended up offering to drive Mrs. Stevens and her little boy back to their home, which turned out to be only a few blocks away. She saw that Joel had not returned home yet, from whatever emergency had called him away. She would have to remember to ask him about it in the morning when she went back to the lab. Maybe she would keep the black, horn-rimmed costume glasses on. She laughed lightly to herself over the idea.


	3. Unexpected

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**... or the babies get it.**

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At ten minutes to noon, two weeks after Halloween, the door to the lab Aidy and Daschle shared opened and the man, the myth, the legend David McNorris entered. He wore a dark suit that complimented his pale complexion, along with an engaging smile that no doubt turned reporters into willing lapdogs. He sauntered over to stand before Adeliene's table. His relaxed posture and friendly expression told her that he was not there to demand test results or evidence. She gazed up at him with eyes narrowed slightly in speculation. She wondered if he would be the pushy prick he had been for the majority of their first meeting, or the possibly less priggish man who he'd turned into for the last three seconds of the encounter.

"Can I help you?" she asked, not entirely unkindly.

"Have you finished with the Jessup DNA report?" he asked. It was a pretense and she knew it, but she wondered if _he _knew that she knew. She leaned back in her chair and glanced at her computer screen.

"Yes, I have," she told him. Then, deciding to call him on his bluff, she lifted an eyebrow. "In fact, I sent it up to your office about… four hours ago." His smile shifted slightly, seeming to become a fraction more genuine. "What do you really want?" she asked bluntly.

"I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have lunch," he said, without missing a beat. Aidy was taken slightly aback by the statement. Given the way their first/last encounter had gone, one would assume that they would more likely end up enemies than acquaintances. Unsure whether or not she wanted to spend the requisite hour with this man that a meal demanded, she stalled for time to think.

"Well, I'd like to have lunch every day," she informed him sardonically. "Don't always manage to pull it off though."

He didn't even react to her smart ass routine. "I was thinking of lunch with me," he clarified, voice smooth and mild. She knew that it was intended to make one feel at ease. Of course, knowing that it was intentional did not dampen the effect.

"Now, why would I want to do that?" she inquired with a smart alecky smirk. Across the room Daschle snorted.

"Just go to lunch," he piped up, his tone amused. "You know you're hungry."

"Hey, shut up you!" Aidy shot back at him over her shoulder. In front of her, McNorris chuckled. He held out one hand, as if offering something.

"Think of it as an apology for my recent bad behavior," he told her, those obscene blue eyes friendly and inviting. Her eyes flicked towards his left hand and the Claddagh ring that encircled the third finger. Of course, McNorris was married. But that didn't mean anything. She'd had lunch with Daschle almost every day (not to mention dinner half a dozen times) and with officer Ray Heckler once last week, and dinner with Joel just two nights ago - all of whom were married. How else was she to build professional relationships than by spending time with these people?

She gave a sigh of mocked reluctance and held up her hands in defeat. "Alright," she told the blonde. Her eyes flashed at him when she added, firmly, "But nothing fancy. _Or_ spicy. And you're paying."

His smile was finally fully genuine. She could tell, because the area around his eyes crinkled fetchingly. "I wouldn't have offered anything less," he assured her. She stood and removed her white lab coat, revealing the cheap, but nice blouse beneath - white with pale violet pinstripes. She hung the lab coat on the stand against the wall. McNorris held the door for her as they left. As she brushed passed him, she could not help but notice his cologne, something mildly sweet with a light musk undertone. It was rather pleasant.

"No purse?" he inquired as they entered the elevator. He pressed the button for a sublevel that was part of the parking garage.

"You're paying, remember?" she reminded him. He smiled lightly. "I don't carry a purse anyway," she told him.

"I don't think I've ever met a woman who did not carry a purse," he said then, eyes silently asking for an explanation. She cocked her head to the side.

"Have you ever carried a purse, counselor?"

"Can't say as I have," he conceded.

"They're rather annoying. They slip of your shoulder, they get caught on things. You drop them and all your junk falls out," she listed the pitfalls of handbags. "And, trust me, there is always junk in it. Not to mention, it's like wearing a sign that says, 'all my money is in this bag that you can easily snatch off my arm'."

"But it's a fashion accessory, isn't it?" he asked, as though he didn't know already. She snorted.

"Do I look like a fashion plate to you?" she challenged. He pressed his lower lip upwards, his expression saying that this was one of those questions that had no right answer. She laughed. "The correct answer is no," she told him. "And it's not entirely unintentional. I don't want to have to think too hard about what I wear in the morning. I have enough on my mind as it is."

"That, Miss Creed, is a very logical point of view," he complimented.

"Aidy," she corrected him. He smiled lightly.

"David," he told her, placing a hand on his chest to indicate himself. The elevator stopped and they stepped out.

"Alright, David. Where are we going?" she asked. He motioned to his left and they walked, side by side towards where she assumed his car was parked.

"Lady's choice," he told her, sounding magnanimous. She smirked. Her usual comment about not being a lady was held back for use at a later date. She found that it was kind of nice to be treated like a genteel woman for a change. She imagined it would wear off soon enough and she would correct his behavior towards her to treating her like one of the guys. But not just yet.

"I'd have to say, you're a bit over dressed for any place I would choose, counselor," she told him.

"David," he reminded her, with a look from those eyes that ensured she would not forget again. He led her to a silvery white Mercedes and opened the passenger door for her. "Fine, then I'll choose a restaurant," he told her with a smile.

He closed her door once she'd settled in the seat. As he shut it, though, the glove box before her popped open revealing a bottle of scotch that was well on its way to being empty. Aidy quickly slapped the little door shut, wiping at her mouth in an unconscious nervous gesture as she fought down her reflexive reaction of disgust. She had no basis on which to judge David. Just because he had a bottle in his glove compartment did not mean he was a drunk driver. And, really, given the way Ray was quick to point out any flaw the blonde man had, something like that would have topped Heckler's list.

McNorris slipped into his seat behind the wheel of the car and fastened his seatbelt. Aidy mimicked this, having forgotten when the glove box offered up it's dirty little secret. He started the car and pulled out of his space.

"How does Spanish cuisine sound?" he inquired.

"Sounds like Taco Bell," Aidy sniped lightly, drawing a laugh from the pale man. She liked his laugh, she decided. Though, to be honest, it was the rare laugh that she did not enjoy.

"Too fancy?" he teased. She chuckled.

"Honestly, David," she said, just catching herself before she called him counselor again. "If you wanted to go to Taco Bell, I'd be all for it. Nachos are the single greatest food on the planet. But, I'd hate to see you spill on your snazzy suit."

He glanced at her with a smile. "Maybe next time then."

"I'll hold you to that," Aidy warned. He only nodded. She had trouble picturing Deputy District Attorney David McNorris, in his suit and tie, sitting in Taco Bell, eating a seven layer burrito. A moment passed in silence before he spoke again.

"I really would like to apologize for my behavior," he insisted. "I should not have taken my frustration out on you."

She shook her head. "Hey, that kind of case upset everyone," she assured him. "Besides, I'm tough. I can handle a little bad attitude." He glanced over at her again, his expression appreciative. "I wasn't all that nice to you, if I recall. Maybe I should apologize, too."

"Don't," he commanded with a little shake of his head. "I deserved it. And you were right."

"Right about what?"

"I am inordinately pale," he told her, deadpan. Her head fell back as she laughed. He pulled his car into the parking lot of a rather cozy looking establishment. The sign read Seventh Street Diner. Inside the décor was vintage fifties, right down to the red upholstery and black and white checkered floor. Aidy fell in love with the place immediately. They chose a booth in the far back corner of the restaurant. Or, more precisely, _she_ chose the booth and sat with her back to the wall, facing the whole of the dining room. David chuckled.

"Watching out for enemies?" he asked, eyes crinkled in amusement. Aidy almost blushed.

"Old habits die hard," she told him. "Wasn't very popular in high school."

"High school?" he balked. "That long ago?"

She smirked. "Do you even know how old I am?"

His eyes narrowed speculatively as he obviously tried to come up with a number. "Twenty-five," he finally settled on.

"No," Aidy responded. Then, caught herself. "Yes."

He laughed at her flip flop. "Well, which is it?"

She laughed, feeling a blush creep up her neck. "Yes, twenty-five."

"You sure? Should I get you a calculator?" he pressed, teasingly. She knew she was blushing now.

"Yeah, yeah," she snarked dismissively. "Make fun of the girl who has trouble with numbers."

"Heaven forbid I make fun of the girl," he said, looking skyward. A waitress came over, handing them menus and taking their drink orders - water for David, a Dr. Pepper for Aidy. They looked over their menus in silence for a moment. Aidy had known from the second she entered the establishment what she wanted- turkey club, with mayo -but scanned the rest of the items anyway, on the off chance she found something superior.

"Unpopular in high school," David mused, not looking up. "I'll be you were one of those smart kids who makes everyone else look bad."

For an instant she was nonplussed by his insight. But then, he was a lawyer, it was his job to be sharp like that.

"Sort of," she half conceded. His eyes flicked up at her, head still bent over the menu, one eyebrow arched.

"Sort of?" he inquired. She smirked.

"Smart kid, yeah. Terrible student, though, so I doubt I made anyone look bad. I don't think I was much of a threat," she told him with a self depreciating smile. He nodded at his menu, mouth twisting into a disbelieving mew.

"If you weren't a threat, you would not have been unpopular," he insisted, softly. "That's kind of the way it works."

Aidy suddenly realized that he was flattering her. Picking out something she saw as a negative and twisting it to make her look good. And he was doing an uncomfortably good job of it. She scowled inwardly at the little bubble of pleasure his spiel was creating in her mind.

"I imagine you were very popular in school," she tossed out. He chuckled, folding his menu and placing in before him on the table.

"I was actually," he informed her.

"Football player?"

"Hockey," he corrected. Aidy's eyebrows rose in pleased surprise and interest.

"I like hockey," she told him, sounding surprised by the fact. He seemed pleased by her announcement. "Were you any good?"

His mouth curved in a cocky grin. "Lead scorer in the district," he told her, proudly. She found herself smiling broadly in return. "Also played baseball. State champions junior and senior year."

"Wow!" she exclaimed. He leaned forward on his elbows and she reflexively did the same.

"Who do you like for the Cup this year?" he asked. She scoffed.

"The Sabres," she insisted, with an incredulous smirk. He raised an eyebrow. "I always say the Sabres. I'm a Buffalo girl."

"See, now I would have guessed you were from back east," he told her. She leaned back, feigning insult.

"What's that supposed to mean? You saying I'm not hip enough to be from L.A.?" she challenged cagily. He mirrored her lean back, holding up his hands in submission.

"Too down to earth," he clarified. "L.A. women are a little… how to put this delicately? Flaky." More flattery. Part of her was falling for it hook, line, and sinker and loving every minute of it. The rest of her looked at this part in disgust. _Man pays you a little lip service and you swoon. Ugh._

The waitress, Caroline, a young girl with bleached blonde hair and too much lipstick, came back with their drinks and asked for their orders. Aidy, as predicted, order the turkey club, with mayo. David ordered Cajun catfish. She picked up her soda and took a long drink. She almost choked on it when she noticed that David's eyes had fastened on her lips around the straw. She fought back most of her coughs, covering her mouth with her napkin.

"Alright?" the blonde asked with polite concern. She nodded and waved him off. "So, how about baseball? Tell me you're a Red Sox fan and win my heart forever."

She could not keep from smiling. However, she still had to shrug apologetically. "I don't actually follow baseball. Back in my youth I rooted for the Indians, but that was just because everyone else in my family did. I'm not big on team sports."

Across from her, pale brows drew together in consternation. "Hockey is a team sport," David pointed out. Aidy nodded.

"It is," she agreed. "It's the exception to the rule. I love it. It doesn't even matter who's playing, I can sit and watch just to watch." Her tone turned dismissive. "Baseball, football… eh-" she shrugged. "-unless I have a reason to care, like someone I know is playing, it's boring to watch. I do like to play, though."

"You play football?" Unearthly blue eyes widened with shock. She grinned.

"I've got three brothers," she informed him, matter-of-factly. As if that statement should clarify all confusion. The look in his eyes told her it had the desired effect. He grinned back.

"Ooh," he breathed. "I see. A tom boy." He paused before continuing. "A pretty, intelligent girl who loves hockey and will play football," he recounted. "Where were you when I was in high school?"

She flushed a little under the compliment. Then flushed more when her mind finally grasped the fact that he'd called her pretty. The disgusted part of her mind decided to slap the swooning part upside the head. "A playpen," she said before she could stop herself.

For an instant those gorgeous eyes clouded with what looked sickeningly like embarrassment, but his self assurance chased it away and he grinned wolfishly, clearly enjoying the way her face reddened. She thought he might have commented on her comment, but he let it go. For the moment anyway. She had no doubt David was the kind of man who filed things like that away for use at a later date.

"Three brothers," he repeated what she had told him. "Any sisters?"

It took Aidy a moment to answer, her previous words still sticking in her throat. "No," she said, her tone grateful. "Thank God." Those pale brows went up again in question, so she added, "I might have ended up all… Foofy."

"Foofy?" he coughed, eyes twinkling with amusement at the obviously unfamiliar word. She smirked.

"Frou frou. Girly," she clarified. He made a sound of understanding, nodding sagely.

"Which would have been a tragedy?" he inquired. Her smirk intensified.

"Epic," she stated firmly. She decided to change the subject. "So, you're from back east, too."

"Massachusetts," he confirmed. "Little suburb called Dorchester."

Aidy could only nod. She had picked the first thing that popped into her head to take the conversation off of her childhood, but it had turned out to be a topic that she knew nothing about. She frantically grasped for something to ask him.

"How many siblings do you have?" was what she came up with.

"Just assuming I have siblings?" he asked pointedly. She shrugged and gave him a mischievous half smile.

"You are Irish," she said by way of explanation. He laughed, a loud, hearty, very _real_ laugh; head falling back for a moment. When he looked back at her, his eyes were crinkled in that lovely way and sparkling with mirth.

"Five," he admitted, smiling. "Three brothers, two sisters."

"And you're the baby, aren't you?" she accused. He cocked his head slightly. _See? You're not the only one whose insightful._

"The youngest," he hedged. "I don't know about 'baby'. Creed is an Irish name, why don't you have the required number of siblings?"

The sudden shift in subject took Aidy a moment to process. She blinked and responded, lightly," Only _part_ Irish. Father's side is a mix of all kinds of things, Irish Creed just happened to be last on the list."

He chuckled. "And you're mother's side… I'm going to take a guess here and say Italian."

She nodded. "Full blooded," she said. "So, you know, if you need anything - I know a guy."

"Careful," David told her, lifting a finger of warning. "You are talking to the best DDA in L.A.."

She just gave him a little knowing smirk. "You're parents must be very proud. Baby boy's now a hot shot lawyer in L.A.."

She immediately knew it was a mistake to mention his parents. His eyes darkened ever so slightly, shoulders tensed just enough to be noticeable. She wanted to take back the statement, but couldn't.

"My mother would have been happier if I turned out to be a doctor like my brother Patrick," he shrugged, with a joking grin. His voice was light and did not betray the tension she could see so clearly. "How about you? Mommy and Daddy bursting with pride over their little girl?"

Aidy could almost see the same changes that had shown on David come over her. She had not wanted to talk about her parents, but, short of bald rudeness, there was no help for it. "Well, Mommy is," she told him. "My father passed when I was little."

She hated the way his face fell, eyes softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she assured him. "I'm not."

_Fuck!_ The words she so often said _in her head_ when people expressed their condolences at the death of her father had somehow slipped out of her mouth. And the way David was looking at her made her want to leave the table.

"Oh?" he prompted. Of course he had. How could someone not want an explanation for such an awful statement? Aidy wondered if she could get out of answering by spilling her soda on his suit. That, however, was completely out of the question, as the suit was obviously expensive and she would feel obligated to offer to replace if it were ruined and she just didn't have the extra thousand dollars laying around her apartment.

"He wasn't a very nice person," she told him, simply. Her eyes silently requesting that he not push the issue. She could tell he got the message, she could see it in the way his brows drew together almost imperceptibly, the way the corners of his mouth tightened. And, yet, he chose to ignore it.

"Still, has to be hard on a kid. Growing up with no father," he pushed. She felt it as though it were an actual physical action. She braced herself and pushed back.

"Hard, yes," she conceded, her voice taking on the property of the word she spoke. "But better."

For a moment, they stared at each other in silence. Aidy was trying to decide if all the good feelings he had incited up until this point could forgive him this single, rather awful one. David was looking at her almost like he envied her. Finally, he spoke.

"I can see how that night be true, in certain cases," he said softly. His guilty eyes told her that he regretted the words the moment he'd spoken them, leading Aidy to believe he had not been referring only to her. He looked so damned vulnerable at that moment, she could not help her soft heart from going out to him. She knew with ridiculous certainty that David McNorris was not the type of man who wore his heart on his sleeve and what she was seeing now was a momentous unprecedented occurrence that was not likely to repeat itself in her lifetime.

When Daschle would ask her about her actions later, Aidy would have no explanation for what she did. All she knew was that she had felt compelled. She did not know this man, had no bond with him, owed him nothing. But Adeliene was simply unable to _not_ reach out to him. Perhaps the part of her that was so injured by her own father had been what forced her hand across the table to cover his. When her fingers slid over his, David's eyes intense blue eyes had locked on to her brown ones in shock and (had it really been?) pleading.

"Drugs," the girl intoned, flatly. David shook his head.

"Booze," he contradicted; sad, embarrassed. "Among other things." Aidy nodded, chewing on the inside of her lip. The blonde's expression changed to one of comprehension. "Drugs?" he asked, understanding that her previous statement had been in reference to her own father and not an inquiry about his. She nodded again.

"Among other things," she whispered his words back to him as her own. He opened his mouth to speak and Aidy braced herself, knowing that whatever he said was going to be heavy. But he never got the chance to say it.

Caroline chose that moment to bring them their meals and David's mouth clamped shut like a bear trap. The lab tech snatched her hand back as though she were touching a hot stove. The man looked off to the side for a moment, while the blonde girl put Adeliene's sandwich before her. He cleared his throat and thanked the waitress for his own meal. By the time Caroline had left them, David's emotional walls had gone back up. Aidy fancied she could see them, translucently surrounding him. However, there was a small crack, just off to one side. She knew that was _her_ crack and all she need do was press it and she could slip inside. The question was, how and why and would she ever feel the need or have the balls to do it.

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	4. A Pleasant Meal

**Oi! You sons a bishes! I swear, if i don't get some reviews, I'm just not gonna post anymore. What's the point of writing fic if you don't get any feedback?**

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Aidy willed herself to pick up one of the triangular halves of her sandwich. She kept her eyes on the food, as she lifted it to her mouth, thinking it was the safest place to look. She took a small bite, chewed, and swallowed, but didn't taste a thing. She didn't know how she would be able to choke down enough of it to appear at ease with the man across from her. Her stomach, on the other hand, has ideas of it's own.

Adeliene was one of those people who rarely ate breakfast and today had been no exception. An instant after the food hit her stomach, she organ reminded her, quite loudly, how very empty it was and how - regardless of what her mind was thinking - she _was_ going to eat the whole damned sandwich.

"Wow," David intoned blandly. Aidy looked up to find those blue eyes softly lit with humor, rosy lips twitching with amusement.

"Sorry," the tech blushed. She bit the inside of her lip, trying to calculate the shortest amount of time she would have to wait before taking another bite and avoid looking like a half-starved dog on Animal Planet.

"Don't apologize," the blonde insisted. "Honestly, I'm impressed.

"Huh?" Oh, yes, Adeliene Creed - Master Wordsmith.

"You don't carry a purse, yet managed to smuggle a bear into the restaurant."

She laughed so loud, other patrons of the diner turned to look. She quickly covered her mouth and tried to silence herself. David grinned and speared a forkful of catfish. He made a quiet "mm" sound as he chewed. Aidy, who had never had catfish before, wondered how it tasted. It smelled rather appetizing. Her stomach loudly agreed. Her face flamed as David chuckled at her.

"Please feed that thing before it breaks loose and attacks me," he requested, voice filled with laughter. She bit back another laugh herself and bit into the sandwich, silently marveling over how easily the tension had been broken. David moved the conversation towards lighter fare.

"So, is being a crime lab technician all you dreamed as a child?"

"Well," she responded around a bite of unchewed turkey club. "It's all I dreamed it would be three years ago, anyway. As a child, I had other ideas."

He waited for her to answer as she chewed and swallowed. When it became apparently she did not plan to expound, David pursed his lips into an impatient pout. "You can't say something like that and not elaborate," he told her. Aidy grinned.

"Well, you mentioned before that you are the best DDA in the city," she reminded him. "Aside from veterinarian, all my childhood dreams revolved around professions that were someone removed from the straight and narrow."

"You're joking." Her grin widened.

"Not a bit," she insisted jovially. "Blame my cousin Ant'ny."

"Anthony?"

She shrugged. "Yeah," she said with a heavy New Yorker's accent. "Ant'ny."

The counselor smirked. "Cousin on your mother's side, I take it."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Call it a hunch. As a prosecutor, I've learned to trust my instincts," he told her with a wink. "So, Ant'ny-" he mimicked her pronunciation. "- led you down the left hand path?"

Aidy shook her head. "Oh, no. No, no. I never _told_ anyone," she laughed. "I was a strange child, but not stupid."

"I imagine not," he slipped in. David's slick compliments might just be the end of her carefully cultivated humility, modesty, and poor self-image one day.

"Ant'ny was one of those guys who was kind of shady," she admitted. "But, really, the sweetest guy you'd ever meet."

"Around his darling little cousin, anyway," the prosecutor inserted sagely. Aidy half smiled.

"Of course," she agreed, taking a sip of her soda. This time David's eyes stayed, respectfully, on her own. "I guess he put the notion into my head that you can be a crook, but not a bad guy. Which, I grew to learn, is rather a naïve view."

"But you did learn it, which is the important part," the man insisted. She nodded.

"And what of the great David McNorris? Aspirations of hockey fame and fortune? Major league dreams?" she inquired, smiling. He returned it.

"Of course," he stated, as though there should never have been any doubt. "I had trouble deciding which one I wanted to be more, since I was highly talented in both fields. But, really, my childhood _dream_ was boxing."

"Should have known," she sniped, good naturedly. He was Irish after all. "So, why are you not the Great _White_ Hope?"

"Because I'm not that good," he told her with a wide grin. She laughed. "I told you it was a dream."

"Awe, poor little David. Did you get beat up a lot?"

"I still do," he laughed. "I could never give it up totally, even if I'll never be the champ. I try to get into the ring at least twice a week."

"Be careful you don't mess up that pretty face," Aidy warned, wagging a finger at him. "That's the money maker."

He laughed. She thought she could see just the faintest tinge of pink along the ridges of his ears. She pounced on it in her mind, feeling vindicated that she had finally made him blush after he'd brought a flush to her face so many times over the course of their lunch. Whether it was true or not.

"Oh, I wear headgear," he assured her. She looked down at her plate to find that she had eaten the entire sandwich and all that was left on the china was a pickle spear. She picked it up and crunched into it, only to immediately reject the vile thing from her mouth with a look if disgust.

"Eck."

"Sour?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Sweet, bleh," she complained, putting the offending vegetable back onto her plate. "So, what brought you into the world of crime fighting?"

"The same thing that brings everyone in, I suppose," he said, absently. "A desire to right the wrongs and injustice in the world." She nodded. Noble. She wasn't buying it, there was something else there, but she knew better than to push. "And you?"

"Well, I'm not really a crime fighter, David," she told him. "I'm a lab rat. I run tests and processes."

"But you could have been a lab rat in any field," he pointed out. She supposed he was right, but only shrugged noncommittally in response. "So, why the crime lab?"

"Maybe I watched too much CSI," she offered coyly. He smirked, but this time, chose not to press the issue. She watched him take another bite of catfish. It really did smell good. He smiled as he chewed.

"In a minute, I'm going to take offense to the way you're staring at my meal," he warned lightly. She flushed, yet again. "You could have gotten more than a sandwich."

Aidy shook her head. "No, I'm not hungry anymore, really. I've just never had catfish, that's all."

David reached across the table and grabbed her fork, spearing a chunk of the flaky meat. He held it out, indicating that he intended to feed it to her. She blushed more, but it would be rude and childish to refuse at this point. She leaned forward and took the bite off the fork, sitting back quickly. He smiled at her softly. She was so distracted by the inviting warmth in his cruelly blue eyes that she did not at first notice the warmth in her mouth. Warmth? Make that searing heat.

She coughed, her eyes immediately beginning to water. _Oh, my God!_ She inhaled sharply, which turned out to be a mistake, as the whoosh of air carried the abusively spicy bit of meat to the back of her throat. She reflexively swallow, choking and gasping like a goldfish on a public service announcement. David was instantly all concern.

"Are you okay?"

Adeliene hacked once. "Hot!" she gasped. He pressed his water into her hand and she took a gulp, which did little to cut the heat that was eviscerating her tongue. "Milk," she squeaked out. Through blurred eyes she saw him leave the booth. A moment later he returned with a tall glass of milk. She took a mouthful so fast that some of it spilled out the corners of her lips. But, oh God, was it a relief. She swallowed and took another, smaller drink, letting it rest on her tongue and counteract whatever evil spices he had poisoned her with.

After a few moments, her mouth had been washed clean and she put the half empty glass of milk down on the table. She used her napkin to wipe at her face, loathe to look up and meet the gaze of the man across from her. There was no help for it and eventually she had to face the music. David wasn't laughing at her, but he looked like he wanted to. Concern, however, dominated his expression, thought just barely.

"Are you okay?" he asked again. She nodded, wiping at the tears that were still wet on her cheeks.

"Even though you tried to kill me." He laughed, his expression incredulous.

"It _is_ Cajun catfish," he reminded her. "You heard me order it."

She scowled. "Yeah, well, where I come from Cajun means burnt," she insisted lamely. "You're Irish, how the Hell can you eat that?"

"You're very racist, you know that?" he accused facetiously.

"Well, given that I'm part Irish, it's not really racism," Aidy pointed out.

"So, you're an Uncle Tom."

"Uncle Paddy," she corrected, bringing another smile out of him.

"No offense," he began. "But I don't think I've ever seen such a lightweight when it came to spiciness before."

She shrugged, taking another drink of the milk he'd so gallantly brought her. "Well, I used to be able to eat spicy food. Until the great dirty rice calamity of '98."

"Go on," he prompted.

"Dirty rice is a very spice, ironically, Cajun food. I used to love it. But one day, I had nothing to cut the heat and burned all the taste buds off my tongue." He hissed in a sympathetic breath. "Yeah. Not good times," she intoned. "So, now I have zero tolerance for anything spicy. I should have asked, but you barely took a sip of water. How was I to know you had an inhuman tolerance?"

He smirked, waving Caroline over and asking for the check. Aidy was amazed at how quickly the time had passed. As they drove back to the police station, the conversation turned to a recent case and how the evidence seemed to be shaping up. They parted ways as the elevator reached the floor where the crime lab was located.

"Thank you for a lovely and interesting meal," David said, magnanimously, inclining his head.

"Since you paid, shouldn't I be thanking you?"

He grinned. "Oh, I got my money's worth," he assured her with a wink. She rolled her eyes with a chuckle. "We'll have to do it again. Soon."

"Okay, just stop by the lab. I'm always there," she told him, with a dramatically pathetic sigh. He smiled and nodded, lifting his hand in a wave as the doors slip shut between them.

Daschle glanced up at her as she entered the lab. "How was lunch with Casper?"

Aidy smiled as she slipped into her lab coat. "Very nice."

"Really?" he piped.

"Yeah," she told her partner. It would be quite a long time before she would disclose the full events of the meal with the dark man. Now, she simply said, "He's not a bad guy, after all."

Inside, she was remembering how haunted he had looked when he said the word booze and how he kept slipping in little comments to stroke her ego; she was thinking about those expressive blue eyes and how it was probably a good thing that David McNorris was happily married.


	5. The Things People Know

**Yay feedback! We love feedback. We NEED feedback! **

**Anyway, here's some more stuff. and an actual episode to tie into. whatta ya know!**

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Aidy sat staring at her computer, reading over the file that she'd pulled up on the screen. Home invasion homicide. The evidence seemed fairly cut and dry on her end. The perp's hair had been found in the home, along with fibers from his clothes caught on a torn fingernail on the victim. Blood on the killer's clothes matched the DNA of the murdered man. That was as far as Aidy read into the file, not wanting to know or caring what the motive had been. She was reviewing the case because she would have to testify in the trial in the near future and wanted a refresher. 

Prosecuting attorney: David F. McNorris. She wondered what the F stood for. Frank? Frederick? She sighed, scrolling up to the top of the screen to read over the file again. It had been three days since her meal with the man. She knew. She'd counted. She wondered if he would ever voluntarily come to see her again after she had seen so much of him. Obviously more than he showed the rest of the world, more than he had intended to let her see. It had been a fluke, his injured soul reaching out to hers - if you wanted to get all Hippie and poetic about it. It wasn't something he could take back. For a man like him, so used to being in control, it probably scared the Hell out of him. Hell, it scared Aidy and she was used to nothing being in her control.

She wondered if he had a bottle in his office like the one he had in his car. David was obviously an alcoholic. The sins of the father visited upon the head of the son. Had he gone up and had a drink after their lunch? God, she hoped not. She hoped he'd just brushed it aside as no big deal, figured she would let it go by the way side, as most people would. In a few days, she wouldn't even remember it had happened at all. Or, he would think that anyway. She'd never forget the haunted look in those ethereal blue eyes. Never.

If he wouldn't come to her, though, did she really have the balls to go to him? Did she even want to? It was like bringing home a stray dog from the pound that had been abused. They always warn you that it's going to take a lot more effort than you realize and once you take responsibility for the poor creature, there's no giving it back. Sometimes they even remember to warn you that the sweet, sad thing has teeth and can, and will, bite. She shook her head to dispel the melancholy thoughts. David was not a dog, he was a human freaking being. Not to mention successful prosecutor, _and _he also had a wife. McNorris had plenty of people in his life to lean on. He did not need Adeliene Creed.

"Aidy," Fearless Bobby Smith said, stepping through the glass door to her lab. The tech looked up from her computer screen. He was carrying a plastic bag that held some article of clothing. "I need a rush on this preliminary."

Adeliene took the bag from him. "Solonic?" She caught the name scrawled in Joel's now familiar sprawling hand. "This the Russian mob thing?"

Fearless nodded. "Yeah. We think there's blood on it that will link him to the homicide," he told her. Aidy slipped on a pair of Nyplex gloves.

"Okay. Give me some time," she said, taking the bag over to a processing station. When Fearless did not move from where he stood in front of her computer table, she gave him a small frown. "Watching me isn't going to make it go any faster, detective."

"Coming back down to get it will only waste time," he replied. She could tell by his stiff posture and set of his jaw that he was on edge, either about this case or something else. His eyes, usually half lidded and lazy looking, were now fully open and almost overly alert. The last thing she needed while trying to rush this through was a stressed out cop staring holes into her.

"I'll bring it up myself the second I finish," she told him, her voice firm.

"I'd rather-"

She slapped a hand down on the work table lightly, cutting him off. "I believe I made it clear the last time you were down here that I do not work well with someone breathing down my neck, Fearless. Go back to your partner and let me do my job."

He understood immediately and the look in his eyes told the tech that he respected her position. He gave a short nod and left the room. She broke the seal on the bag and reached in, pulling out a brown shirt with a dark hued line pattern that reminded her of the seventies. Daschle got up from his seat, moving across the lab to join her.

"Russian mafia? This guy's a hitman or something?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at the shirt she was spreading out on the table. Aidy spread her hands on the flat, stainless steel surface before her, her lips tightening into a displeased puss.

"Didn't I _just say_ that I don't like people breathing down my neck?" she growled at her friend. He immediately backed away and walked around to the opposite side of the station, grinning at her in amusement. She rolled her eyes at him. "Go find something useful to do, Daschle."

He saluted her with a wink and went back to what he had been doing, letting her focus on the task at hand. As it was, it took her fifteen minutes longer than she would have liked. True to her word, the second she had the report in her hot little hand, she was out the door. The ink on the paper might not even have been dry yet. She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the floor she wanted. An unfamiliar man slipped into her car just as the doors closed and she glared at the back of his head when he pressed the button for a floor before hers. _Tack on an extra two minutes,_ she thought, irritated. Finally, she was stepping into the squad room. She asked a uniform where she could find Fearless and Joel.

"Interrogation two," the woman informed her. Aidy was moving before the cop had even finished the third syllable in that statement. As she approached, she could see Fearless and Joel standing before the door to the aforementioned room. With them, was the rather disheveled and decidedly scruffy looking David McNorris.

Joel was the first to spot her approach. Fearless took his queue from his partner's body language and looked up. He did not relax when he saw her. If anything, he seemed to wind up tighter than before. David, who had been facing partially away from her, turned to see what had caught the others' attention. He seemed surprised to see her, but, Aidy noted, not displeased. She proffered the evidence bag with Solonic's shirt inside, along with the report. The DDA took both, handing off the bag to Fearless and scanning the sheets of paper. He looked tired. The girl wondered briefly what was wrong with him, but pushed it aside, focusing instead on the business at hand. She was a professional, after all.

"So, it is blood," he remarked, looking back up at her. She nodded.

"Same type as the victim," the tech informed the men. "We can test the DNA, but we're backed up and the earliest I can get you results is a week."

Joel nodded unhappily, but she could tell he had been expecting that kind of news. "What's Solonic saying?" McNorris asked the detective, looking into the room where the suspect sat, his back to the window. Aidy followed his gaze, taking in the traditional tattoos that adorned the bald man's pasty frame. As if sensing that he was being talked about, Solonic turned in his seat and looked back at the four of them, eyes hooded with boredom and malice. The lab tech had to make a conscious effort to keep her lip from curling.

Fearless answered the prosecutor. "He says that the blood sprayed on him while he was helping the guy."

_Sure it did._ Joel sighed, leaning on the hip high wood partition that walled off desk areas for other detectives. "The problem is," he lamented, sounding tired, "this guy's gonna be tough to crack."

"Problem is, you won't crack him," McNorris corrected bluntly. He moved to stand before the window, gazing in at the killer. "You can check the DNA, but that doesn't prove that the blood didn't get there the way he said it did. Problem is, you squeezed every single witness in the place and they're all standing behind _his_ story. All-" he turned to face the detectives. "-except one." He paused, letting that sink in. Aidy wondered who this lone, ballsy witness was. "So, here's the question you gotta ask yourself: What's the greater good?" David looked directly into the eyes of the men before him as he pressed his point home. "We can leave Solonic on the street; he may or may not harm the girl, but he's certainly gonna kill again. _Or_…we get the girl to testify, put Solonic away, and then bust our asses to keep her safe. The greater good," he repeated when Fearless turned away, frowning over what the DDA was saying.

"The girl" didn't tell her much about their witness, but from the way they spoke out her, the lab tech could tell that she was in grave danger from Solonic. Why was that any different from any other witness? It couldn't be just that she was female. That didn't make any sense.

"An imperfect system," McNorris conceded. "But it's all we've got."

Adeliene was impressed by the attorney's words. Despite his unkempt appearance at present, he was treacherously lucid and keenly sharp. She could definitely see why he was considered such a hot shot - because he _was_ one. Could probably talk the scales off a rattlesnake. Joel let out a tired sigh. Fearless was looking across the squad room as though he'd noticed something peculiar, but Aidy could not tell what it was.

"Without the girl he walks outta here?" Joel asked the prosecutor, obviously displeased by the notion. David pointed at Fearless, bringing his distraction to his partner's attention. Joel put a hand on the other detective's arm.

"Bobby," he called him back softly. Fearless turned back to the DDA, a look of almost angry determination on his face.

"I wanna talk to Solonic first," he announced. McNorris nodded.

"Alright, let's talk to him."

"I wanna talk to him alone," the detective clarified firmly. He walked passed the blonde before the other man could respond and entered the interrogation room. The prosecutor turned concerned eyes on Joel.

"Is he okay?"

The other man nodded, but his expression gave away his own concern for his partner. "Yeah, he's fine," he insisted softly, looking away. The blonde eyed him for a moment, before turning his gaze to the lab tech, who had been silently watching the whole exchange.

"Aidy, nice to see you out and about," he said, inclining his head in greeting. One corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "I was under the impression that you techies did not stray so far from your gadgets."

"Glad to disillusion you," she responded, one eyebrow arched mockingly. Another officer walking passed motioned Joel over and the two stepped a few feet away, heads bent in discussion. Aidy took advantage of the distraction. She lowered her voice so that only the blonde would be able to hear. "Have you been sleeping in your office?"

He blinked, chin coming up a fraction in surprise. "How did you know? Did you come by while I was napping?"

"Have you looked in a mirror today, David?" she asked incredulous. His brown furrowed slightly, telling her without words that he had not. "You're all disheveled," she told him, motioning at his wrinkled and askew clothing and horribly mis-tied tie. "Take an hour, go home, change your suit and _shave_. You're not intimidating any bad guys looking like that."

He blinked again and actually _smiled_ at her. "I'll take it under advisement."

The door to the room opened, and Fearless stepped out, looking more upset than when he'd entered. He walked passed them and stopped beside his partner, back to the room he'd just exited. He stood silent, waiting for the others to finish. Joel shrugged in response to David's inquiring gaze. In the room, Solonic had stood and was looking at her in a way that made Adeliene's skin crawl. He placed his hands on his bony hips and that was what drew her attention to the tattoos there.

"Huh," she said, absently.

"What?" McNorris said, from a little too close beside her. She turned to him, then turned a bit more, putting her back to Solonic.

"He has eyes tattooed on his hips," she told the DDA. The blonde was still facing the room and could see for himself that she was right.

"So?" Joel asked.

"In the Russian prison system, eyes tattooed on a man's hips means he is humiliated, lowly," she informed him. David looked interested, but she could tell he was not grasping her point. "It means, basically, that he was a bitch."

Fearless glanced back at her over his shoulder. The prosecutor's pale eyebrows soared. "You're kidding."

She shook her head once. "I'm not. This guy isn't as high up as he wants you to believe."

Joel was sporting that little, pleased half-smile he sometimes got when something struck him just right. McNorris's unearthly blue eyes gazed at her with new respect for a moment before narrowing slightly with suspicion. "How do you know that? No, offense, but you're a lab tech."

"I watch Discovery," she informed him simply, offering nothing more. Her mouth twisted into a somewhat self-satisfied smirk. "And no offense taken." Before he could ask any more questions, she turned on her heel and walked back down the hall the way she had come. She grinned to herself, knowing that the lack of information in her answer would irk him something fierce. "Don't forget to take the hour," she called, not looking back, then turned the corner and headed towards the elevators. Back to the lab, back to work.

Just as she pressed the call button, Aidy heard someone approach with heavy, clicking steps. She glanced back. Officer Ray Heckler was bearing down on her, looking like he had something on his mind.

"Creed," he began. He was the only one who called her that, in the whole station house. While it should have been annoying at worst, odd a best, it was actually a pleasant change somehow.

"Ray," she reciprocated in greeting. He glanced over his shoulder as if making certain they were alone. Which they were.

"I saw you talking to McNorris," he said, as thought he'd caught her sticking her fingers through the bars of the lion cage at the zoo.

"Well, I was in plain sight, Ray. That happens," she informed him. The elevator doors slid open and she stepped into the car. She pressed the button for her floor and waited for the doors to close. Ray reached up and slapped the safety mechanism; the doors slid wide again.

"You had lunch with him the other day, too."

The tech cocked her head to the side, brow furrowed, eyes a little harder than a moment before. "Are you checking up on me, Ray?"

He huffed in annoyance at her query, then apparently decided it was not worth a response. Instead he went on with his original line of thought. "Don't get cozy with McNorris," he ordered with far more authority than he had right to. "The guy's a snake."

"Well, I wasn't planning on marrying the guy," Aidy said with a good natured smirk. It was rather cute that Ray felt the need to watch out for her.

"Good, cause he's got one wife already and can't manage to stay faithful to her as it is," he stated firmly, effectively eradicating all cuteness. Aidy jabbed her finger at the Close Doors button.

"Thanks for the tip," she forced out. Ray held up his hands in defense.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," the officer said, grandly. The doors slid shut.

"Well, fuck."

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	6. Who are you, really?

**Okay, back for more. Am I the only one who figured out the Coyote episode's word salad LONG before the people in the show? shrug Enjoy.**

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It was a simple blood analysis. Type it right away and then queue it up for DNA. Missing girl, schizophrenic suspect in custody. That should have been all the attention Aidy should have given it. But the fact that the man was mentally ill enough to believe he was a coyote was maddeningly intriguing. She kept shooting glances at the file in her organizer. Word Salad. That's what Fearless had called it. The supposedly incoherent ramblings of a diseased mind. Bits of sentences, words, phrases all sitting like puzzle pieces dumped on the floor, waiting to be put together. And Aidy had always been a fan of puzzles.

After lunch, when she offhandedly inquired after the progress they were making with the case and Fearless had told her none, the tech finally broke down and opened the file. She read it from cover to cover twice and looked over the copy of Fearless's so-called word salad. It had to be a joke. It had to. She kept repeating this to herself as she rode the elevator to the squad room. There was no way. No way. But when she saw the huge group of cops and doctors and one lone DDA standing outside the interrogation room where the coyote man was being held, she knew it wasn't a joke. And that made it worse.

The woman reporter who was always hanging around the squad like a media gadfly, Andrea Something-or-other, was mixed up in the case. Having known Eric Sorenson, the coyote, in high school, she was the only person who had a link to the man inside the delusion. She pleaded with David for five minutes with Eric, to try to get through to him before the prosecutor forced God only knew what drugs into his bloodstream. When everyone (minus the civilian doctors) went into the adjacent observation room, Aidy attached herself to the crowd and filed in. No one noticed her standing at the back of the room. She watched Andrea's exchange with the sick man with increasing fury over what she was witnessing. She held her tongue, giving them one last chance to prove her wrong. When Andrea (Little! That was her name.) left the room and everyone stared at each other with blank looks of repugnant ignorance, the lab tech lost it.

"Are you kidding me?" she barked suddenly, startling everyone. Seven sets of eyes turned towards her, wide with shock at her outburst. She glared in disgust into every one. "I'm serious. Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Aidy?" Joel said, the single word conveying surprise, censure, and questioning all at once.

"Joel," she spat back at him, flatly, mimicking his tone. David opened his mouth to speak, a look of consternation on his already drawn face, but Ray beat him to the punch.

"You got somethin' to say, kid, go on and say it," he challenged.

"I'm having trouble handling the concept that L.A.'s finest officers, detectives, and the best DDA in town have been in a room, staring at this evidence all day, and have managed to get exactly no where," she scoffed, voice shaking with outrage. "Even the super special psychiatrist/lawyer has no frickin' clue!"

"I'm assuming you have some insight?" said the aforementioned super special shrink/shark. "Miss?"

"This is Adeliene Creed, one of the techs from the crime lab," David said by way of introduction. He gave her a meaningful look. "And she was just getting to the point."

She glared into those eyes of his. "I looked at this file for a grand total of ten minutes. I don't suppose even _once_ anyone thought to question Mrs. Black's darling baby boy? You know, the one our good Samaritan canine throws rocks at?" The uncomfortable shifting of bodies told her the answer was no. "Odd behavior for a coyote, isn't it?" she asked of the psychiatrist sharply. "The kid must be doing something pretty bad to warrant such an out of character action. Like, oh… I dunno - video taping a sixteen year old girl through her bedroom window?"

It was that little bit of information Eric had given while Andrea was with him just before, that had cemented her theory of the crime. Mrs. Black's son had been peeping at the girl for who knew how long and Wiley Coyote had been the only one aware of the fact. Most rapists start out as voyeurs, peeping toms, before moving on to actually attacking women. The fact that young Black had actually kidnapped the girl meant he had absolutely no intention of letting her live. All the time lost by the police had brought the girl closer and closer to imminent death. She might be dead even now as Aidy was berating them for their failure.

"Not to mention the fact that he's been telling you who it was all fucking day long!" she shouted, jabbing at the word "Black" on the white board that stood against the wall beside her. "Nothing?" she scoffed, looking from one set of shocked eyes to the next. "Fuck!" She slapped her copy of the case file down on the table before her. Unable to decide who she was most disappointed in, Aidy settled for throwing final scathing glares at the nameless psychiatrist, Joel, and, finally, David. "I hate being the smartest person in a room!" That last was said with utter contempt so heavy she fancied she could _see_ the emotion manifested physically hanging in the air before her as the words left her mouth, like hot breath on a cold night. She spun and slammed the door open, stalking down the hall towards the elevators.

She gave Daschle no explanation as she shrugged off her lab coat and snatched up her briefcase, save a short, "I'm going home."

Adeliene fumed all the way down to the parking garage and her car, a blue Chevy Cavalier. She wrenched the door open and threw her case inside with enough force to pop the clasps and send papers cascading down to the passenger side floor. The tech dropped into her seat and slammed the door hard enough to make her wince, turned the key as though she were trying to snap it off..

_She might be dead already._ This thought angered her to the core of her being. She lost control for a moment, striking out at the steering wheel hard enough to make her hands ache. A litany of colorful swear words spilled from her lips as tears threatened to follow in suit from her eyes. _She might be dead already._ It mocked her. If she had never looked at the file, she would not be in this situation. If she had not let her damnable curiosity get the better of her, she would not now be in this state of sickened fury.

_If you'd looked at it this morning, the moment it crossed your desk, the girl might be home by now. Safe and sound._

Which was really what gnawed at her innards. She could have prevented all of this. But there was no way to know that the puzzle would have been so easily solved. She could just as likely have been still sitting at her computer desk, driving herself as mad as Eric Sorenson while she tried to work through his schizoid ramblings. But she wasn't.

A knock at the window of her car startled her so badly she cried out. She turned to see David McNorris peering in at her. The sharpness of his rapping and the look on his face conveyed anger and accusation. When he saw her obvious state of distress, his own expression softened. Aidy curled her lip in disgust at his concern. She rolled down the window and gazed at the blonde man as though he were far beneath her and undeserving of her attention.

"What do you want?" she snapped, voice heavy with disdain. He looked taken aback for an moment, then his face closed her off, taking up its former look of accusation. The fact that his eyes remained open and filled with feeling took the force out of his next words, but injected a cruel sting of deeper meaning.

"Who are you?"

The girl's mouth tightened into a thin line of offense, eyes like shining stones in their sockets. "You know who I am. I'm a lab tech. And you're the DDA and you should have figured it out on your own," she told him through gritted teeth, referring to the missing girl's case. His jaw set stubbornly.

"You're right. On both counts," he told her, giving in too quickly. "Now, who are you, really?"

His eyes promised that she could trust him with her secrets and she so wanted to believe it, but she knew it would be a mistake. "No one special," she answered his question. She could see the instant the words registered in his mind and knew that it had been the wrong thing to say. David leaned forward, gripping the door, the fingers of his right hand barely inches from her shoulder. Crystal blue eyes looked not at Aidy, but into her, through her.

"I think you are," he told her, his voice soft and so compelling she knew he was a true believer. A dangerous thing. He would not let it go, she knew. He would find out all her secrets, all the ones that were there for him to find, and then he would press her until he got the rest. Because, that's the kind of man David McNorris was.

She threw the car into drive and the vehicle lurched forward. The big Irish blonde snatched his hands back as she pulled too quickly from the parking space, leaving him staring after her as she made her escape. So much for the question of whether or not she would go to David. He would come to her, whether she liked it or not. She sighed backing off the gas pedal until her car assumed a legal speed.

If the girl made it home safely, it would be worth it. Wouldn't it? And if she didn't… Aidy would not even entertain that possibility until it was a cold, hard truth. Not for a second, lest thinking about it made the hypothetical a reality.

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	7. Better and Better

**What is so hard about reviewing? i mean really? sigh**

**Anyway, here's more. You don't deserve it, but I'm posting it anyway.**

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Aidy hung around the squad room, not making the slightest effort to hide the fact that she was loitering. She had bigger things on her mind than her lack of productivity that day. Truth be told, she wasn't even supposed to be there. It was her day off. She had come in to pick up one file, the home invasion homicide that she would be testifying on in the near future, and Daschle had dropped a bomb. Ray Hechler, the acquaintance who had quickly become one of her favorite cops to work with, was in trouble. He'd been foolish/brave enough to volunteer to go into a hostage situation disguised as a paramedic and got made. Now, he was a hostage himself. And it is a well known fact that bad guys do not like cops.

Daschle had suggested she go home and he would call her the moment he heard news. How the Hell could she leave and go about her business when Ray was in that situation? He could be killed at any moment. On what planet was ignoring that considered a healthy way to go? So, she loitered in the squad room, gleaning what information she could from the officers and detectives that came and went. She learned that the perps involved had requested a van. They'd been watching too many movies, but at least it gave the cops a bargaining chip. Something to use to stall the criminals until they could find a way to get Ray and the civilian hostages out of there.

A familiar voice was now speaking, coming towards her. She turned and saw Joel double timing it to his desk. She made a bee line for it. He barely looked up at her when she asked what was going on.

"Ray's still inside. We don't know how he is, but they say he's still alive. I'm here to get the van," he told her, snatching up the phone and punching in numbers like the thing owed him money. After a moment of the detective looking impatient someone on the other end picked up. "Chet, how long?" Apparently, Chet's answer was not what Steven's wanted to hear and he scowled at his desk. "Yeah, I'll hang on." He glanced up at Adeliene and did a double take as if just noticing she were standing in front of him. "Aidy, what are you doin' here?" he demanded, tiredly.

She answered his question with one of her own. "Where else could I be, Joel?" He seemed to understand her sentiment and nodded. She decided to press the issue. "I'd rather be on the scene."

This he reacted to with vehement opposition. "Out of the question," he told her, firmly. "No offense, Aidy, but you're a tech and the last thing we need is another person running around out there getting in the way."

She ground her teeth. "You're right, I'm a tech. So, I know better than to get in the way. I'm not some kid, Joel," she insisted, even though she could see that he wasn't about to budge on this. Her eyebrows drew together beseechingly. "He's my friend."

The man's expression softened. "I know," he said, his voice taking on its normal, gentle tone. "I promise, we're doing everything we can. If you could help, I wouldn't hesitate, but just being there isn't gonna get him out any quicker. The best thing you can do is stay out of the way and wait. It sucks, but that's-" he cut himself off as someone spoke through the phone. Aidy knew then that she and her concerns were dismissed. She sighed and picked at the finish on the wood of the desk. He was right. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't _will_ Ray out of the dangerous situation.

"Okay, Chet," Joel said, taking a quick look at his watch. "I'll be at the garage in five minutes." As he slapped the handset back into the cradle, Deputy DA David McNorris appeared out of nowhere.

"Stevens, I need a word with you," the blonde said, sparing Aidy the barest of glances.

Joel nodded, moving to go around the other man with an absent, "Yeah? I'm listening." Strode quickly across the desk area to drop a form into someone's inbox, then came back to get his jacket. David spoke as he did this.

"I just came from the DA's office. He said he's prepared to do anything shy of negotiating with the criminals."

Anything shy of negotiating? Meaning what- give them milk and cookies and play Barry Manilow music until they surrender?

"We're exchanging a van for ten hostages," Joel told the prosecutor, swinging his Police jacket around and sliding into it. David held up his hands in denial.

"If we do that, every crook who gets in a jam is gonna know we do deals," he explained firmly. Joel looked about as impressed as Aidy felt by that tidbit. "It'll be open season on hostages, I'm sorry."

McNorris said this as though it were the very last word on the subject, moving around Joel to walk away from the man and the conversation. The detective was not letting it go that easily and for that Adeliene was grateful. Joel followed David and she followed Joel, knowing she did not belong in the discussion, but unable to miss out on it.

"We got two lunatics in there with nothing to lose," Stevens said, trying to convince David of the reality of the situation. "If we storm the place, there's gonna be a bloodbath!"

David stopped and turned back towards the other man. The volume of his voice rising as he repeated his position, as though being louder made him more right. "Look, I can't negotiate!" The, quieter, to convey that this was an important point. "That comes from the top."

"There is a cop inside," Joel reminded the prosecutor firmly. "Okay? Put your politics aside for once, _please_. Let us do our job."

David looked away from Joel's pleading eyes, looking for all the world as if he would like nothing more than to do just what the detective was asking of him. It only lasted a moment before the DDA within tugged at his leash. Steven's expression hardened.

"That's what I thought," he said, jabbing an accusing finger towards the prosecutor. "We're taking the van," he informed the blonde defiantly, moving passed him again. David turned and caught the detective by the arm, waylaying his exit.

"No, stop," he said twice before Joel yanked out of his grasp, squaring off with the taller Irishman, toe to toe, right there in the squad.

"Get your hands off me, before you get hurt," he challenged. His brown eyes, usually warm and sensitive were hard, his expression aggressive. Aidy would not have expected McNorris to back down, despite how intimidating Joel looked in that moment, but what she was truly unprepared for was the way the blonde actually seemed to light up at the prospect of violence.

His cheeks flushed slightly. Those blue eyes widened manically, positively glinting with excitement. Beefy hands were clenched into ready fists at his sides. She could see by the rise and fall of his now tense shoulders that his breathing was hitched in anticipation; his rosy lips were parted ever so slightly and quirked upwards in what appeared to be the beginnings of a sick little smile. "Go ahead," he challenged the detective right back. "Give it your best shot."

Aidy herself felt like a spring wound too tight. No one else seemed to see what she was seeing at that instant. She could not just let these two men come to blows in the middle of the police station, but caught between them trying to tear each other apart was about the last place she wanted to be. Joel seemed to realize something was off about David's reaction and did not make a move to escalate the altercation, but waited, ready, for McNorris to make the next move.

Saved by the bell, literally, as the DDA's cell phone rang and spoiled the tension of the moment. Adeliene actually had to lean a hand on the wall relief made her so weak. The blonde looked irked at having be interrupted. He flipped open the device and held it to his ear. "Yes, sir?" he answered. Ah, the DA himself. "No, I'm sorry, it's too late. They've already taken the van." He lied so smoothly it took Joel a moment to realize what he'd done. "Yeah, okay." David snapped the phone shut. He nodded to the detective. "I'll take the heat," he promised. Steven's gazed at the other man with newly profound respect.

"Thanks," he said simply, but, in that male way, Aidy knew it meant more. Then the detective hurried off to collect said van.

David sighed, taking a moment to come back to himself fully. He looked up at her then, seeming to just remember she was there, watching the whole exchange. Adeliene had no idea how she looked, what her expression was, but again she could see that vulnerability in his azure eyes and knew that she'd witnessed far more than he intended. The girl wanted to tell him that she was proud of what he'd done, but any words she could have come up with would have sounded contrived at best. Instead, she stepped forward, never breaking his gaze. She moved as if to pass by him, pausing at his side and laid a hand on his forearm, hanging by his waist. A light squeeze and a look of compassion and empathy could express so much more than anything spoken aloud at times.

His gaze cleared and he looked at her for a moment with appreciation, then dropped his eyes from hers. The moment was gone, but it had served its purpose. To let him know that his act did not go unnoticed and something more that she could not name, the same something that had caused her to touch his hand in the Seventh Street Diner. Another quick squeeze and her hand slid away, fingers brushing over the coarse but fine fabric of his suit jacket, and she walked away.

Aidy had no intention of leaving the station. She simply needed a bit of fresh air. There was a small balcony where Fearless would go to smoke, instead of trudging himself all the way up to the roof or down to the street. That was where the tech headed. She could still smell the exhaust fumes, but there was a pleasant breeze up here. She leaned against the wall and for a few minutes, just breathed.

David. The way he had just instantly switched on at the prospect of a fight was disturbing. Obviously, his emotional fractures ran far deeper than just his alcoholism. Did he want to fight because he needed to take out his aggression on another living person? Aidy shuddered, she hoped not. Men like that garnered none of her pity. He hadn't seemed aggressive, she realized, only amped. He'd reacted to Joel's threat. But what did that mean? She had so little information to go on, she knew she shouldn't be rushing to any kind of judgment about the man.

She leaned over the high stone barrier that served as a railing and gazed down at the traffic below. Joel had the van to trade with the criminals for the hostages. She could only wait and hope that things worked out. Her stomach was in knots, had been since Daschle first gave her the bad news, and was only getting worse. She never should have gone into this line of work. She should have been a veterinarian after all.

The door to the balcony opened and Andrea Little stepped out to join her. Aidy contemplated going back inside. She did not want company now and even if she did, she did not know this woman. The tech never spoke to the press, no matter how appealing their offers of compensation for a bit of inside information could be. But apparently, Miss Little had business with Miss Creed.

"I know you don't know me, but we need to talk," the woman began, her tone and stance conveying that she would not be brushed aside. Aidy was wholly uninterested in what the reporter had to say, she had a lot on her mind, after all, but she thought it prudent to hear her out. If only to get the woman to go away.

"I don't know what you're intentions are with David, but my advice to you is to let it go."

For an instant, Aidy had no response. She had been expecting the conversation to run along the lines of information and compensation. Advice about David McNorris? And where did this woman fit into the picture? "Let it go?" the tech parroted back to her, not quite understanding the reporter's meaning.

"He might seem charming," Andrea went on. "But trust me. You don't want to get involved with him."

Adeliene's eyebrows soared. "Involved? You think I'm.. what? Sleeping with him?"

"That's none of my business," the other woman said, but her expression said louder that it was exactly what she thought. Aidy tried not to be insulted. "I'm his friend and I know him, a lot better than you do."

"Okay," the lab rat conceded. She imagined there were lots of people who knew David better than she did, or at least thought they did. She was having a little difficulty wrapping her head around the discussion.

"So, we understand each other?" Meaning, do you understand me?

"Well, I understand what you're saying," Adeliene told Miss Little, almost entirely sure that she did. "But I doubt very much you know anything about me."

The journalist scoffed. "You've only known David a few weeks. What's he to you?"

That brought the girl up short. She realized that, from a purely objective point of view, Andrea Little was correct in everything she had said. The girl _had_ only known him a short while and she really _shouldn't_ get involved with him on any meaningful level. However, this perspective was completely ignorant of the improbable connection the man had made with her. Somehow, he'd reached out and she'd responded, or maybe it was the other way around. The whys and wherefores of it didn't matter, only the fact that it happened at all.

Aidy looked back at this other woman, warning her away from David McNorris, and was utterly unmoved. One eyebrow quirked upwards ever so slightly, she gave her a look of bland aloofness.

"I don't know," she said, truthfully. The reporter opened her mouth to speak, but Adeliene had heard more than enough. Of all the days to be dragging this to Creed's doorstep, the woman would have been hard pressed to find a worse one. The tech walked around her and opened the door. "You're right, though," she said, looking back. "It's none of your business."

She left, leaving the woman staring after her. The corners of her mouth turned down in a frown of disgust. _So, David, that's the woman you cheat on your wife with, _she thought with distaste. Because there could be no other explanation for Little's "advice".

_And she's threatened by you,_ came that uninvited little voice inside Aidy's mind. She forced back any misguided feelings of pleasure at the concept. Right now, emotional entanglements or friendship with David McNorris and the ire of his mistress were secondary. The first thing on her mind was her knotted stomach and waiting.. Waiting for the news that Ray made it out safely.

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	8. Why?

**Alright you ungrateful bastards. Here's the next chapter.**

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Daschle answered the phone on his desk on the third ring. After a brief silence, he gave a terse, "Alright," and hung up. Aidy could feel his dark eyes boring into her back.

"What's up?" she asked, not turning from her task.

"DDA McNorris requests that you meet him in his office in twenty minutes," the man told her, sounding displeased by the fact.

"Did he say why?"

"He mentioned that case you keep going over." Sometime was off about Daschle's tone. It sounded unhappy and lightly accusing, as well. She looked back over her shoulder at her friend, one eyebrow quirked.

"Why do you sound all weird?" Blunt worked best with Daschle, she found. He was frowning, not exactly at her, but in her general direction.

"McNorris has a reputation, Aidy," He began solemnly. Ah, so that's what it was. Hermes, like Ray, was worried that she might fall under the Svengalian spell of the rather pale attorney. She scoffed, deflecting his well intentioned, but unnecessary concern.

"I know," she assured her partner, with a roll of her eyes. "Ray told me."

Daschle visibly relaxed. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but knew better than to actually say it. She was grateful that he was the type of person who knew when to let something lie. She turned back to her task, allowing herself to frown now that he could no longer see her.

David McNorris's reputation had come to see her fact to face; Andrea Little. Her stomach tightened when she pondered the situation. He cheats on his wife. She wondered if the woman even knew about it. That kind of thing was usually sufficient cause for Aidy to write someone off completely. How could she feel any measure of respect for a person who betrayed someone they had pledged to spend their whole life honoring, not to mention loving?

But, somehow, David had become an exception to this long-standing rule. Every time she thought about it, disgust welled up within her and she wanted nothing more than to shuffle him off to the land of apathetic disdain where all such despicable creatures as adulterers go. And then, those haunted and haunt_ing_ eyes would be there, in her mind, pleading with her to not turn a deaf ear or blind eye to his pain.

Dammit! If only she had learned of his extramarital, extracurricular activities sooner. She never would have gone to lunch with him. Hell, she never even would have teased him in her lab that first day they met. But, things had not worked out that way and, now, she was stuck in an uncomfortable and unending loop of distaste and empathy. Not two things that mesh well together.

Twenty minutes later, she found herself in just about the last place she wanted to be - knocking at the office door of one DDA David F. McNorris.

"Yeah?" he called from within. Aidy opened the door and peered inside, finding the prosecutor with the phone to his ear. He waved her inside and went back to his conversation, holding up a finger to indicate he would only be a moment. She closed the door behind herself, taking the time his distraction offered to look over his office. It was a lot smaller than she would have expected for such a hot shot attorney, but then, she supposed, that's what you got for working for the city.

To her left was a coat rack and a wall of book shelves, holding numerous official looking legal tomes, a television (she supposed even crime fighters need a break from time to time), two autographed footballs and some kind of award. Also, dangling from one upper corner was a pair of vintage boxing gloves she wanted to smile over. There was a small round table with two chairs just to the side of the shelves and in the corner hung a speed bag, which did bring a small smile to her face. The wall directly across from her was hung with various framed certificates she had no interest in reading, a small side table covered in files was pushed against it. To her right was a darkly colored couch that looked rather uncomfortable, but somehow, she doubted it would have stayed if it was actually as uninviting as it looked. David had already admitted to napping in his office, after all. Next to the couch was a pair of black steel filing cabinets.

The final wall of the office was made up of large, two thirds length windows hung with vertical blinds. A faux wood file drawer was set against the windows, topped with a computer, fax machine and a few token binders, and before that, facing the door, was David's desk. The desk was a lovely dark red wood and a mix of tidiness and disarray. The inbox was neat and organized, stapler, tape dispenser, pen cup and paperclip holder all lined up in a neat little row, but several files lay open, papers perilously close to intermixing.

"Alright, I'll be expecting your call," the blonde was saying. He hung up the phone and turned his attention to the girl in his office with a pleasant smile of greeting. "Aidy, glad you could join me. Have a seat." He motioned towards the couch. She glanced at it and gave her head a short shake. If she sat, he would still be standing, effectively towering over her and putting her at an implied disadvantage.

"Thanks, I'll stand." He shrugged, pretending to quickly sort through one of the open files on his desk. "You wanted to go over the home invasion case?" She held up the case file she'd brought. David picked up a folder of his own and stepped around the desk towards her.

"Actually," he said, taking her file and handing her his, which was significantly thicker. "I wanted to talk to you about this."

He was standing closer than he ought, so Aidy moved away, stepping further into the room as she opened the file. Her own name instantly popped out at her from the top of the first page and she slapped the folder shut. She turned sharply, intending to walk out of the office, but David had deftly slipped between her and the only exit. Damn. She had no doubt he would move out of her way, but not for anything less than her physically pushing by him. This would require that she touched him and she certainly did not want to do that.

"It's none of your business what's in this file, David," Adeliene snapped with a scowl. He was giving her the same look he'd given Joel the day Ray had been taken hostage, as McNorris told him the DA would not allow negotiating . The look that said he wasn't about to back down - unyielding eyes and an infuriating not-quite smile.

"Be that as it may, I'm still asking you about it."

"Asking what exactly?" she queried, feeling her own expression harden like stone. Aidy knew she had one Hell of a poker face. David had his fighting stance, she had her own.

"It says in that file that you were in the top of your class at Quantico. On your way to becoming a top notch profiler for the FBI," he recounted. "Then, you dropped out of the program, out of nowhere."

"I know what it says," she told him, her voice as cold and emotionless as the look on her face. "I asked you what you want to know."

"What anyone would want to know," he told her, one lifted eyebrow indicating it was the obvious question. Of course it was. She knew it was obvious, but she was not about to volunteer anything that he did not specifically ask for. "Why?"

"Why?" she parroted back, doing her best to make this as difficult for him as possible. David's mouth tightened in momentary annoyance. Then, his expression relaxed as he caught on to her game.

"Well, since you're being so accommodating," he began, crossing his arms smugly and leaning back against the door. "How about we start with why you went out for it in the first place."

She'd known he would find this out eventually and, yet, was still somehow unprepared for the reality of facing off against him - and her past. Aidy ground her teeth together, frustratedly trying to decide what, if anything, she should tell him. Enough to get him to drop the subject, but not more than was absolutely necessary.

"I'm skilled and I thought I could do some good," she told him. There, short, succinct and no more than he could have guessed on his own.

"Do some good," he repeated with an absent nod. "But you quit."

He said the words in such a way as to make them an accusation. She bristled internally, but kept her temper in check. Since it had not been a question, she did not give an answer. He narrowed his extravagant eyes ever so slightly.

"Can't do much good if you run away," he pressed. Her toes curled in her shoes because she would not allow her fingers to do so on the file she still held open in her hands. He was deliberately baiting her into losing her temper, hoping she would spill all her secrets to him in an angry rant as she tried to defend her past actions. It wouldn't work. She merely gazed coolly back at him, outwardly unmoved and still silent, as he had again not asked a question. "Why did you give up, Aidy?"

He was expecting her to deny it. _I didn't give up! What happened was-_ and then give it all over. Fat chance. "I decided I did not want to be responsible for the lives of others." It was the pure and simple truth and, not only was it entirely understandable, it offered no deeper insight into herself, nor any invitation to deeper inquiry.

"Probably for the best," he said, offhandedly, finally moving away from the door. Indignation burned in her chest. _For the best?!_ How dare he? Digging into her past and then mocking her about it? It was uncouth and an invasion of her privacy. She moved towards the door. Who the Hell did he think he was? She'd be nothing shy of honest and he'd insinuated that she was unfit! That was a laugh coming from a drunken- wait. Her hand paused on the door handle.

In the back of her mind, running over and over like an echo, was the question of why. Why was he doing this? Not why was he asking about her past; she had expected that and would have been more disturbed by him not mentioning than cornering her in his office and demanding explanations he had no right to. Why was he using it as tool to anger and/or hurt her? It was as though he'd called her up here with the expressed intention of making her hate him. Yes, that was exactly what he was doing and using her past like a weapon to accomplish that end. But he had no reason to attack her. _Ooh._ It clicked in her mind. Her whole body relaxed, she could almost see her eyes soften.

David wasn't attacking her. He was defending himself. She had gotten too close, seen far too much, and this was a threat to the image of himself he showed to the world. This was how he would push her away. Make her hate him, so all she now knew of him would fall forgotten in the wake of the asshole he was trying to convince her he was. Her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. She thought she'd been on top of the situation from the get go -reading his body language, his expressions, his tone- but David had been playing her from the start and she had almost not seen through the ruse. Oh… Oh, he was good. He was very good.

She set her features in a serene expression of near pleased calm and turned back to the tricky blonde. He had sat behind his desk, reading over one of his many open files, effectively dismissing her. Aidy shook her head and felt the corner of her mouth quirk upwards. New respect for his skill at manipulation made her want to shake her head and laugh. He'd almost had her completely fooled. Man, he was good. She couldn't stop repeating the astonished praise in her mind.

But, then, she was good, too.

Aidy sauntered over to the desk slowly, giving him time to notice her approach and look up. When he did, she could see a flicker of abject surprise pass over his expression of bored tolerance.

"Did you want something, Miss Creed?" he asked, voice fairly dripping with condescension. Feigned condescension, she corrected silently. Now that she knew what she was looking at, Aidy could easily see the layers of affectations David carefully weaved together to con her.

"You have my case file," she reminded him, blandly. He quickly- a little too quickly- snatched it up and held it out to her with false impatience. She took it, a touch slower than perhaps she normally would have, and turned to leave. She forced down the smug smile that wanted to overtake her lips and curve them upward at the heady feeling of superiority, knowing that she truly had the upper hand in this situation now.

The girl opened the door and stopped halfway through the threshold. "Oh," she exclaimed softly, as though just realizing her error. "This is yours, David." Aidy used his given name, letting him see she was not intimidated by his cool politeness.

She glanced back at him, holding up the thicker file holing her FBI history. Blue eyes shown with poorly concealed shock. Of course, he had thought she would take it with her. He had planned it that way, no doubt, so that she would have it to remind her of his treachery. She dropped the file onto his couch.

"See ya," she called over her shoulder in parting, leaving the simple phrase open ended deliberately. "See you soon" would have implied she intended to seek him out despite his wishes. "See you around," would sound too final; might as well say, "Don't bother me anymore." The ball was in his court once again. If he wanted to seek her out, she was leaving him leeway to do so. If not, there was no pressure that she would force her company on him. There was a spring of victory in her step the whole way to the elevator. Once the doors shut, realization came crashing down on her head.

That had been her way out. She could have gone along with his little charade and completely absolved herself of any responsibility towards the obviously damaged man. She would have been guilt free. But, now, she had all but promised her cemented commitment should he ever take her up on the invitation she had so rashly laid down just moments ago in his office. She sighed inwardly, but, oddly, was not as upset by the prospect as she thought she should be. That was disconcerting to say the least. She mulled it over, as the elevator carried her back to her own floor.

Perhaps, she mused, it was simply that it was nice to feel connected to someone again. Oh, she loved Daschle and his family. Joel and Fearless and Ray were great guys. But, Aidy had not really connected with another person since Lisa.

Her mind slammed shut on that like a bear trap. No, that subject was completely off limits; shut up behind miles and miles of mental barbed wire, feet of concrete and iron blast doors thicker than the ones at Fort Knox. Somehow, David McNorris had implemented a back door in her mind. Damn him. She really should have just walked away, like he wanted her to, regardless of what he actually needed. Now, all she could do was wait and see how things played out.

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**Now, the next chapter is gonna be a doozy... but you aint gonna get to read it unless i get some freaking feedback. I swear, i'll just abandon this. glares**


	9. When It Rains

**I'm not even gonna give you all the benfit of an author's note. You're lucky I'm giving you a chapter.**

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Aidy's cell phone startled her as she sat absorbed in the book she was reading. She glanced at the clock; three-forty-seven AM. Any other night and she would have been asleep, or at least _trying_ to be, by now. Whoever was rude or panicked enough to call her at this ungodly hour was lucky she did not have to work in the morning or they would have gone unanswered. She looked at the display and did not recognize the number on her caller ID. _Huh. _She flipped the phone open on the third ring.

"Hello?" There was a brief pause on the other end, but she could clearly hear someone - male by the sound of it - breathing.

"Aidy?" asked a familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone.

"David?" she asked back, in shock. "How did you get this number?"

"Easy," he said dismissively. She thought for a moment he would expound on that statement, but instead change the subject entirely. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, you didn't wake me," Aidy assured him. "Is something wrong?"

She heard him laugh softly through the line. It was watery, almost like a sob. She felt her pulse pick up in alarm.

"Everything is wrong," he lamented, sadly. He was slurring his words, she realized. _Christ._ DDA McNorris was _drunk calling_ her?! "You still there, Aidy?" he asked when she did not respond after a moment.

"I'm here," she said, still feeling shell shocked. "Why are you calling me, David?"

"I needed someone to talk to," he told her, sounding lost. She bit back a sigh and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"You barely know me," Adeliene admonished gently. "Isn't there someone better for you to talk to?"

"Awe, no!" he protested, sounding concerned suddenly. "Don't be down on yourself like that."

This time she did sigh. "I meant someone more appropriate."

"Appropriate?" David echoed. He paused, apparently mulling the concept over. "Well, I have a wife," he began, reasoning it out for her. "But she made it clear that she was done talking about her leaving me by leaving me."

"Oh, my God," she breathed reflexively. He went on as if she hadn't said anything.

"And, I could talk to my mistress, but I think that might be what caused all the fuss in the first place."

"Jesus, David!" she exclaimed softly in exasperation. His wife left him because she found out about the affair and he was calling her now, for what? Comfort? Aidy didn't think she could handle this.

"Yes, I could talk to Jesus," he conceded, thoughtfully. "But he's kind of busy, you know?"

She sighed again. Well, this answered the question of whether or not David was going to push her out of his life. Once again, reaching out for her. She rubbed a hand over her forehead as she realized that, once again, she would not be able to refuse him.

"Okay, David," she told him, closing her book and setting it aside. "You've got me. What do you want to talk about?"

"Is it raining where you are?"

His wife left him and he wanted to talk about the weather. She rolled her eyes. "Of course it is. It's raining all over this part of the state."

"I love it," McNorris told her. "I was listening to it before I called you. Do you ever listen to the rain, Aidy?"

"Sometimes. I love the rain, too." It was true. In fact, it had almost lulled her to sleep earlier that evening. Just her luck she'd fought the urge.

"Yeah?" he asked, sounding surprised and pleased. "I knew we were friends for a reason." _Friends?_ They barely knew each other! "Why wasn't your father a nice man?"

It took the girl a minute to process the sudden shift in subject. "I told you," she said, flatly. "Drugs."

"Oh, right. But _how_ he wasn't nice? Wait, that doesn't make sense." He paused. Then, carefully forming each word, he said, "How was he not nice? Yeah, that's better."

"He just wasn't. I don't want to talk about my father, David," Aidy told him, firmly. She could feel herself tensing slightly.

"But I-" he broke off as she heard something glass shatter in the background. "Dammit!"

"What was that?"

"I broke my bottle," he told her, sounding irritated. "Damn. Now, I have to go get another one."

Adeliene sat up straight in alarm. "You don't mean drive to get one, right? David?"

"There's a twenty-four hour place not far from my house," he informed her distractedly.

"David, you can't drive," she told him. Her heart fluttered nervously at the thought of him behind the wheel.

"Of course, I can drive," he snorted. " 'V'had my license since I'm sixteen!"

"You can't drive in your state," the girl clarified, voice raising in pitch as her throat constricted with no small measure of fear.

"Massachusetts?" David queried, sounding woefully confused.

"You're drunk," Aidy told him, flat and blunt.

"Not overly," he responded, unconcerned.

She scowled at nothing and bit off a nail too close to the quick, flinching. It was an impossible situation. How to keep the intoxicated man safe and sound in his home? It wasn't as though she were there and could just take away his keys. She closed her eyes on the thought that popped into her head.

"Fine" she said. Her tone much aggrieved as she resigned herself to her plan. "I'll bring you a bottle."

"You will?" he nearly squeaked. Any other time and she would have found it adorably funny, but just now it grated her nerves. "That's great, because I can't seem to find my keys." _Son of a bitch._ "I just had them, too. I- oh, here they are. Ha! In my pocket. You know, it's always the last place you look."

She shook her head with another sigh and asked for his address, making him repeat it twice to be sure it was correct. Twenty-five minutes later she was pulling into his driveway.

Aidy turned off her car and sat for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what it was she thought she was doing. Surely David had someone else to call, someone who would take responsibility for the man away from her. On the other hand, even if such a person existed, it did little good at this point. She was already here.

But he didn't know that. McNorris might have already passed out and was sleeping it off by now. She could drive away, back to her apartment, and he'd never know the difference. No, she couldn't do that. She wanted to, and that thought kind of sickened her about herself. She couldn't just run away because a situation was a little intense.

No? Wasn't that what she'd done at Quantico? Wasn't that why she'd run all the way to L.A.? Aidy ruthlessly stamped down the thoughts that taunted her and flung off her seatbelt, opening her car door and stepping out into the rain.

As the girl made her way up the drive a flash of lightning lit the world for an instant. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw a figure standing in a front window of the house. She shook off the startlement, continuing up the concrete pathway. David had been watching. She felt vindicated in her decision to stay, knowing it had been the right one. The last thing the poor bastard needed was to be abandoned outright by a friend on the night his wife left him.

Adeliene didn't bother knocking, since he already knew she was there; she simply let herself in the unlocked front door. It was warm outside and the rain had dampened her clothes and skin; she shivered in the sudden coolness of the house, the combination of AC and wet skin chilling her. The door had opened directly into the living room. David stood not far from her, in the window, staring out into the night. He was holding a glass of amber liquid at his side.

"You didn't need to bring a bottle," he told her, his voice soft and sad in a way it hadn't been on the phone. "I found one." He sounded almost sorry for the fact as he lifted his other arm, showing her the bottle of scotch he held. It was just as well, as she hadn't actually brought him any alcohol anyway.

"You said you needed to talk," she reminded him softly, wiping at her wet arms to try and assuage the chill. His brows drew together for a moment, as if he were trying to remember if he had, in fact, said anything of the sort. He gave up on the elusive thought and downed what was left in the glass as though it were water. "It's dark in here, David," Aidy pointed out. He shrugged.

"I was listening to the rain."

"Where's the light switch?" she asked, glancing at the wall beside her and finding none.

"I hope it never stops," he said then, either ignoring her question or just too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear. She tried searching for the switch, but the dimness of the room impeded her. She could hear the clink of the bottle against the glass, the liquid tinkling into it as he poured. "Washes everything away."

"David," she called gently, waiting for him to look at her. In the dim bluish light filtering in through the window, his eyes looked mournfully void of color and they glinted sharply - tears. He'd been crying; he might still be crying. She felt an involuntary pull in her chest that she felt he did not deserve, but it happened none the less. "Where is the light switch?"

He moved across the room, in her general direction, but obviously focused on something behind her. He tripped over what she guessed was a coffee table and lost his footing. She darted forward to steady him before he went sprawling and felt the too cold wetness of alcohol slosh over her wrist and forearm. _Lovely._ Using his unsteadiness to her advantage, Aidy managed to twist him around and deposit him safely in the couch beside them.

As she released him, the girl realized that his shirt was rather damp. "Did you go stand out in the rain?"

"For a bit," he said with a shrug she could barely make out in the darkness of the room.

"Sit here," she ordered softly. "And just _tell_ me where the switch is." He rested the bottle in the crook of his other arm and pointed over the back of the couch at the far wall. The lab tech made her way carefully across the dark room and flicked the switch, which had been rather easy to find once she knew where to look. A warm glow immediately lit the area as three lamps around the living room came to life.

Aidy took a moment to look over the McNorris's décor. She hated it. It looked waspish, as if some uptight old woman lived in the house. The wife must have had complete control over the design scheme, because nothing in the room reflected David.

Nothing but the broken scotch bottle that lay on the floor not far from where she stood.

"Is your kitchen this way?" she asked, heading toward the table and chairs she could plainly see through an open archway directly ahead of her.

"Yup," he confirmed, peering over the back of the couch. Adeliene hadn't really needed his input. She'd only asked so that he would know where she was going and would remain in his seat while she cleaned up the broken glass and spilled liquor. Once finished, she came back to the living room.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked. The girl stood in front of the couch, trying to decide which of the floral print arm chairs looked the least uncomfortable to sit in.

"I don't remember," David admitted, sounding half amused by the fact. He reached up to scratch his temple and Aidy gasped. Almost the whole of his left shirt sleeve below the elbow was stained maroon with what could only be blood.

"Jesus, David!" She quickly took hold of his wrist and unbuttoned the cuff, then rolled his sleeve up gently, searching for the source of the bleeding. Blood had smeared then dried on his skin from fingertips to elbow, obscuring the injury. "Where's the bathroom?"

The blonde pointed towards a hall that led from the room. "First door."

Aidy was there - finding the bathroom's décor as uptight and foofy as the living room and kitchen - and back in a matter of seconds, bearing a wet hand towel and a small first aid kit. She pulled the coffee table back and sat on it, pulling David's arm towards her again, and started carefully wiping away the blood.

"You don't have to do that," he told her, but did not try to pull away.

"Someone has to," she told him. It struck her how that little exchange had very succinctly summed up this whole experience. She started at his elbow, searching for the wound. It was a small gash about an inch long on the flesh of his forearm, just aside his elbow. She put down the towel and examined it closer. "Did you do this on the broken bottle?"

"No, the window," he told her. That simple statement cause her blood to pound in her ears as she froze, bent over his arm. It hadn't even occurred to her that David might be a violent drunk and now she was kicking herself for it. She became intensely aware of the fact that they were very close together, one of her knees was between his and vice versa. She swallowed hard.

"Window?" she asked, trying not to show the sudden panic she was feeling. "What window?"

"At Andrea's," he said. Andrea, the mistress.

"I thought you said you couldn't talk to her," the girl reminded him, hearing the quiver in her voice.

"Not about Marian. I went to see her before, but I don't have a key anymore and I didn't think it through." David told her all this as though it should make perfect sense to her.

"Why did you break the window?"

"I told you, I didn't want to wake her and I didn't have a key, so I broke the window to get in. I didn't want to wake her, but I didn't think it through."

Somehow, the muddled explanation lessened her worry. It still niggled at her mind though and she knew the surest way to provoke a drunk was to hurt them. She rather ungently prodded at his injury. The blonde inhaled sharply through his nose, but did not flinch. He didn't even complain. The knot in her gut loosened. Aidy was still wary, but almost positive the man would not become violent.

"Sorry," she said, meaning it.

"It's alright. I deserve it."

That brought her eyes up to his. Twin pools of shimmering blue stared at her from reddened lids, so sad she felt the insane urge to hug the man. Rosy lips quirked into a rueful half smile and he brought the bottle directly to them this time, taking a long drink. The girl scowled and snatched it from his grasp, setting it down on the coffee table with a loud thunk. She opened the first aid kit and took out the antiseptic ointment and a largish square bandage.

"I think you've had enough," she told the blonde. He only shrugged, not moving to regain possession of the scotch.

"Maybe you're right. I have had a lot," he conceded.

"When did you start drinking?"

"When I was nine."

"I meant tonight," she clarified, trying to stay patient.

"Right after I left Burman's. The first time. Before I went back," he said. "It had just started to rain." The last trailed off into a sigh as his eyes slipped shut and the girl assumed he was listening to the drops falling outside.

"Burman?"

"Ron Burman, the movie producer," he informed her as if shocked she didn't know already. There were hundreds of producers in L.A., she couldn't be expected to remember them all.

"You went to see a movie producer after your wife left you?"

"What? No," he snorted. "That was before. When I sold my soul."

This conversation was just getting more and more confusing. She finished applying the ointment to his gash, as gently as she could, and wiped her fingers on her pant leg. Picking up the bandage, she tore the wrapper off and carefully laid it over the wound, pressing down on the edges to make sure the adhesive stuck. Then, she picked up the towel and began cleaning the blood off again.

"Why don't you start from the beginning, David?" she suggested. Maybe if he told the story in order, it would make more sense.

"My father was a fixer back in Dorchester," he began. She sighed, pausing in her task.

"I meant _tonight_," she told him again.

"This is about tonight. It's a long story," David told her. She looked up at him, seeing his solemn expression. His eyes were anything but solemn. They burned at her with a deep yearning that told her this was something he needed to say, it was eating him up inside. He needed someone to hear it.

"Okay, David," Aidy told him softly. "I'm listening."

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**Oh, you want more, do you? Well, so do I.**


	10. It Pours

**Here's the rest of the night. I swear, you people are so frickin' stingy with the reviews. What's an author to do?**

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She told him she was listening, so that's what she did. Aidy didn't say a word for over an hour as David laid his life story at her feet. His father, Jack McNorris, the fixer, the man who had taught David everything he knew about being a poor excuse for a father, husband, human being. His poor, sainted mother who took it all - the boozing, the violence, the infidelity - as her due. His own struggle with alcohol and his decision to go into criminal law as (at least in part) a big fuck you to old Jack that didn't work out quite as he'd hoped. 

The more he spoke - his voice sometimes angry, sometimes guilty, always sad - the less Aidy wanted to hear, but the more she knew he needed to say. So, she listened. She could feel that connection she'd tried to deny strengthening withy every word, feel herself opening to the injured man before her.

And then he dropped a bomb on her. Had he started his tale with his selfish and reprehensible acts that day, it would not have mattered to the girl if Damaged Dave had been raped by the entire varsity football team while the cheerleaders watched. She would have walked right out on him.

She felt like she'd been conned. He'd drawn her in, baring his soul, making her care. Then, only after he'd secured her loyalty, did he reveal just what she'd gotten herself into.

_Shut up!_ she wanted to scream. _Just shut up! You disgusting waste of skin!_ She wanted to pull away, being so close to him made her skin crawl, her stomach turn. At the very least, she wanted to _look_ away. She could not hear him say these things, know that he was such a lowly creature, but look at him and see the genuine tears that trailed down his far too pale skin and feel… empathy. Empathy, yes, because there was no way she could possibly be feeling forgiveness. Not for this _thing_ seated before her.

Leave. Move. Look away. She wanted these things, but denied herself even the small measure of release and relief an averted gaze would provide, for the bare and undeniable fact that the man _needed_ her. As surely as he needed breath. Perhaps, had she been a lesser woman or had not been damaged herself, she could have ignored the painfully new bond between them. Not for the first time in her life, Adeliene Creed dearly wished she were that lesser woman. The one who lacked the fierce strength and determination that held her in place now, brown eyes locked on his pathetic blue.

When he finished off the sordid tale with his drunken attack on Ron Burman in his entry hall, Aidy felt no renewed twinge of panic. She was now certain that David, regardless of alcohol, would never lay a finger on any woman. The betrayal that burned in her chest would not allow that realization to count as a point in his favor. Not yet.

"So, I drove off and stopped in front of Andrea's and proceeded to drink myself even stupider," he recounted ashamedly, with a quiet, pitiful sniffle. Aidy waited for him to continue for a moment before she realized that _he_ was waiting for _her_ to speak. Or, from the expression of grim acceptance in those red-rimmed, still teary eyes, for her to leave. What a perfect opportunity, a door left wide open - again - for her to make her escape through.

"Is that when you broke the window?" she asked instead, pushing him forward. For a moment, the blonde only stared. When he finally did speak, his voice was markedly softer; his words sounding like he had to carefully form and force each one around an object in his throat.

"I wasn't thinking clearly, but I remember not wanting to wake her." Aidy chose not to remind him that he'd mentioned this fact at least twice before now. "It didn't occur to me that I would have to wake her to talk to her."

"What did you need to tell her so badly?" the girl asked.

"This," he told her, with a small, encompassing wave of his hand. "I needed her to know. I needed her to-"

He broke off sharply, pressing those rosy lips together until they formed a thin, bloodless line.

"Forgive you?" she supplied, barely suppressing the disgust she wanted to soak the word in. The idea seemed to injure the man. He flinched as though something sharp had jabbed him in the chest.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "To condemn me."

The girl would have pursued that statement, but she could literally see McNorris backing away from the unvarnished truth of what he'd just said. Aidy understood then that this was the first time he'd ever been so honest with himself about his motives. And it terrified him. The blonde ran one beefy hand over his face and leaned forward abruptly. Adeliene was faster though, and had snatched the half empty bottle away before he had any hope of reaching it.

David fell back against the couch bonelessly in defeat and scrubbed the hand across his face again.

"Did she give you what you wanted?" the lab tech prodded.

"No," the DDA responded, hand now resting over his eyes. "It just made things worse. Like always. So, I came home and I told Marian everything. And now I really am I one man show."

"What?"

The hand that covered his eyes slid up and back, brushing over his short blonde hair and coming to rest behind his head. He sniffed once and gave her a ghost of a rueful smile.

"Marian said that marrying me was becoming part of the David McNorris Show. Apparently, I was the most thrilling adventure she could imagine. But she didn't know it was a one man show. No room for supporting cast."

They gazed at each other for a moment. Adeliene knew he expected her to say something now. He expected her to follow in his wife's footsteps. Instead, she only shrugged. She couldn't attack him and she wouldn't comfort him, so she said nothing. He sniffed again and heaved a sigh - relief or disappointment she couldn't tell - and closed his eyes against her neutral, but unwavering stare.

Aidy heard a bird chirping and glanced at the window. Her stomach tightened in a familiar uncomfortable way when she saw the gray world beyond the McNorris living room. The sky was lightning and soon dawn would swoop down on them.

David began to snore softly and the girl's brown eyes snapped back to his face. For an instant she was shocked and outraged that he had fallen asleep and almost shook him awake. But reason won out over the infantile anger at his dozing off. She was upset, yes, and had every right to be after all he'd told her, but _he_ was the one whose life had crumbled apart in less than twenty four hours. A stab of pity both softened and irritated her.

Aidy mimicked his earlier motion and scrubbed a hand over her face. She moved to stand, only then realizing that David's left hand was clasped in her own. She stared at their joined hands, trying to remember just when that had happened. How long had they been grasping each other? Long enough that her knuckles felt stiff when she slid her fingers away from his.

She stood and stretched, hearing the joints snap and pop. A decorative afghan was draped over the back of the couch and the girl tugged it down, spreading it over the sleeping man before her. Then, she left him. She needed to get away, needed to think. So, she headed for the kitchen. Her grumbly stomach tried to convince her it was hungry, but Adeliene knew that it was a lie. Eating before ten AM was never a good idea. She opened the fridge and gazed blankly at the contents. _Soda, purple stuff, Sunny D… _Milk, that would work. After three tries, the tech managed to find the right cabinet for glasses and poured one full of the McNorris's milk. As she drank, the things David had told her began to rearrange and organize themselves in her mind. She examined each one carefully before filing it away.

All of the shit he'd told her he had done made her want to beat him senseless, but the obvious regret he had dulled the sharp edge of her disdain. Her mind was already rationalizing his deplorable behavior the day before. The girl was already dead and this _is_ L.A.. The Burman kid would probably have gotten off light even without McNorris's actions. _That doesn't make it right!_ No, it didn't make it right, but it was true. And there was the small fact that the boy had not committed the crime. _But David didn't know that._ No, he didn't. He'd certainly lucked out on that score. It was like the powers that be had been testing him with a hard choice, but had provided a safety net should he fail. _Which he did._ Big time.

Taking her glass with her, Aidy began to wander the McNorris residence with complete autonomy. She looked over a collection of framed photos on a small table by the front door. David and Marian's wedding photo. David and the DA. David and the chief of police. David, Marian, and some politician. David and Marian dressed to the nines at some L.A. big wig's party. Aidy began to notice a theme. She wandered down the hall and peered into the first room. Obviously Marian's domain, there was a daybed with a flouncy dust ruffle that made the girl want to gag. This was where Marian did whatever it was the woman did.

The second room screamed of David. Dark wood desk faced one wall, small filing cabinets, a big overstuffed leather arm chair. Framed news paper clippings of various sporting events adorned the walls, but nothing less than ten years old. A number of files sat on the desk, waiting for David's attention. Aidy took it in and made her way back to the living room.

David's head had lolled to the side slightly, his mouth open just a fraction so he no longer snored. His pale eyelashes rested softly against cheeks that were still a bit flushed from the long night of weeping. Aidy had begun to understand just what David's life consisted of. At first glance an observer would take in his high profile occupation, his passionate wife, his younger mistress, and his known-secret vice and take it all at face value as a very full and exciting. Aidy was never one to take things at face value. She looked at the same image and saw that David's world was very small and was suffocating him.

All the pictures in the house were of David and Marian. No friends, no relatives, no children. Aside from stepping into the ring twice a week, the man's life consisted of his wife and his job. The way David said Marian had described him and their marriage as the David McNorris Show left the girl wondering just what, if anything, the woman really knew about her husband. Had David told Marian all that he had told Aidy tonight about his father? Had the woman listened? Did she even care?

The girl understood now that the affair with Andrea Norton had not been about sex, but escape. David needed release from his life, from himself. She didn't even have to wonder if Andrea knew the things she, Aidy, knew. Of course, David would have told her all of it, as he had rushed to tell her about Burman tonight. He _wanted_ her to see his misdeeds and condemn him, but what he didn't know was that he was actually seeking out acceptance. His soul was crying for someone to tell him he was not the awful man he'd feared he would become, that he was not his father. Andrea had her own agenda with the affair, though, that was obvious, and never gave the blonde what he wanted _or_ needed. She was in it for herself.

David McNorris had lost a great deal of Adeliene's respect tonight, maybe all of it, but he had secured her allegiance. She knew she couldn't turn her back on him, not now, probably not ever. The girl had not felt this unbreakable bond since Lisa. Lisa Menossi, the best friend Aidy had ever had; the most wonderful person to ever enter her life. She swallowed the lump in her throat ruthlessly, before it could dissolve into tears. This was not the time or place to dwell on such things. The only way she could force back the memories - now that they had been loosed - was with the promise that she would return to them later.

David's arms drew up under the afghan and clutched together before his chest. It was then that Aidy remembered his wet clothes. She gazed at his sleeping form for a moment, deciding just what to do, before moving to action. Firstly, she brought her empty milk glass back to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. Turning back to the refrigerator, she snatched a bottle of water from the case resting on top of the appliance. One her way back through the living room, the girl left the bottle on the coffee table. She made her way to the master bedroom. Here was a room that was very David, though Marian had tried to cover it with frou frou wallpaper and another frilly dust ruffle.

The furnishings were large, made of rich dark wood. The bed was large and inviting. A lovely armoire stood in the corner beside the door leading into the master bath. Aidy went to it and quickly found what she was looking for. Carrying the clothes with her, along with a pillow she snatched off the bed, she went back down the hall. The linen closet was beside the bathroom and the girl obtained a blanket. Her arms full, she went back into the living room, depositing her wares in one of the uncomfortable chairs. Then, she gently shook David's shoulder. He came awake with a start, but his eyes were bleary when he gazed at her. He was obviously exhausted. She opened the water and pressed it into his hand.

"Drink this," she ordered quietly. She knew he would have a hang over in the morning, there was no way to avoid it with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, but at least she could help with the dehydration part of it. He immediately did as she told him. As David tipped back the plastic bottle, she sat again on the coffee table and pulled away the afghan. The girl quickly began to unbutton the lavender shirt that was still slightly damp and cool to the touch. David stopped drinking and watched her fingers quizzically.

"Are we gonna have sex now?" the man asked, in a confused tone that was so child-like she could not help but find it sweetly amusing, despite the subject of the question.

"No, David," she told him gently.

"Good."

She felt herself smile over that, not feeling insulted in the least. "Finish your water." Again, he immediately complied. Aidy freed his remaining wrist from the shirt cuff and pulled him forward slightly so he was sitting away from the couch back. She pushed the cold fabric off his shoulder and he pulled his arm out of the sleeve. She took the now empty water bottle and he finished shrugging off the shirt. David was wearing a white undershirt that was wetter than the dress shirt he'd had over it. It clung to his form like a second skin.

"Take that off," the girl told him, getting up and moving to gather the things she'd placed in the chair before hand. David managed to get the shirt halfway off before it bunched and snagged about his upper chest. Rolling her eyes, she helped the exhausted man free himself. David's physique wasn't ripped or cut, but he was thick and solid, with just the barest hint of softening around his middle that belied his age. His skin was smooth and taut, and cold to the touch at the moment. His chest was sprinkled with hair several shades darker than that on his head, which was soft when it brushed Aidy's knuckles as she helped him undress. It formed a V to his stomach, then a line under his navel, disappearing into his black slacks. Which were also damp to the touch.

Adeliene pulled a black, long sleeved night shirt from the stack and shook it open. "Arms up," she told the man before her, as though she were dressing a child. As she pulled the top down over his head, she realized the idea was sound. David very resembled a sleepy child at this point. He sighed softly in pleasure at the dry cloth over his chilled skin. Aidy made quick work of David's shoes and socks, his feet felt like ice when her fingers brushed against them. Had she known where the thermostat was, Aidy would have turned the AC to a warmer setting, but she had, as yet, been unable to locate it.

Taking the man's arm, Aidy pulled him unsteadily to his feet and started working on his belt buckle. The dampened leather of the belt was proving annoying to work with. David's fingers getting in her way as he tried to help were annoying as well and she pushed them aside. Finally working the tongue out of the buckle, Aidy unbuttoned and unzipped the slacks, and they fell around the man's ankles of their own accord. She shook her head at the realization that she had not asked whether he was wearing anything under them, but, fortunately, he had on a pair of pale blue boxers. Damp or no, those were staying right where they were.

The cotton pajama bottoms proved more of a problem to get onto a half asleep man than the shirt had, but she managed eventually. David all but fell back to the couch when she let him go. She propped the pillow up against the arm rest and encouraged the blonde to lay on his side. He complied with a little moan of relief and snuggled down into the cushions, nuzzling against the pillow until he was comfortable. Again, Aidy found herself smiling over the child-like sweetness of the action and spread the blanket over him. She caught herself before running her fingers through the short cropped hair. He might look sweet, but McNorris still had a lot to answer for and she could not just forget the things he had done, regardless of what had pushed him into doing them. Not yet.

Adeliene moved away, and sat in one of the foofy chairs, which wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as it looked. She watched the man sleep for a few minutes, contemplating whether or not she should leave. She had no idea how he would act once he awoke. He might want to talk more. He might want her to get the hell out of his house. But if she left now, there was the possibility he would take that as a rejection. He might see it as her sneaking away. So, she decided to stay and see just what he would say when he woke up and realized what had happened between them the night before.

She found the remote control resting on top of the entertainment center and flicked on the TV, muting the volume, but turning on the closed captioning. She flipped through the channels, not surprised at all to find that the McNorris's had the full cable package, despite having heard David mention in passing that he did not watch TV. She found House playing on one of the Turner channels and settled in to watch, as the sun began to peek out over the horizon and bathe the world in pale orange light.


	11. Still There

**Well, that took far longer than I intended it to. Sorry. Of course, im pulling double duty now, because i am not fully sane. Check out my other epic in progress, There's No Place Like the O.Z., the sequel to my Tin Man ficcy, Dark Storm. y muchas gracias por all the lovely feedback. makes authors happy.**

* * *

It wasn't the kink in her neck, the sun warming her face, or the urgent call of nature that woke Aidy, but the persistent, gratingly cheery chirping of a bird perched close to the window. It was the wrongness of the song that disturbed her slumber; no birds sang that tune outside her apartment. But then, she remembered once she'd opened her eyes and taken in her surroundings, she wasn't _in_ her apartment. She was still in the McNorris residence and from the angle of the sun coming in the windows, she had been here for quite some time.

She pushed off the blanket that covered her and swung her feet off the ottoman they rested on. As the girl stood, she glanced over at the now empty couch, then down at the blanket she had instinctively begin to fold. A sweet warmth curled inside her at the thought of what David had done while she slept - the blanket, the ottoman.. The feeling was quickly doused by cool disgust as she recalled what else David had done that night.

And where was David anyway?

Adeliene wandered into the kitchen and around the house for a few minutes, calling his name, unable to believe that he'd just left her alone in his home. He knew next to nothing about her, for one. And, Jesus, what if Marian had come back for whatever reason? While washing her hands after using the bathroom, Aidy had a revelation. The man had done the very thing she, herself, had contemplated the night before: leaving while she slept unawares. David McNorris had _run away._

She flicked her cell open and hit callback on the last number to call her. Holding the phone to her ear, she made her way back into the kitchen and rummaged though his fridge again. Eggs, various vegetables, leftover pot roast and Chinese food. She made a sound of disgust. McNorris's cell went straight to voicemail and Aidy snapped her phone shut without leaving a message. _Coward._ Finding nothing remotely edible - by her standards anyway- in the refrigerator, she poured and drank another glass of milk.

The glass joined the one from the previous night in the sink and Aidy thought over the situation. By leaving that morning without a word, David was yet again giving her a way out. This time he was practically begging her to take it. She almost snorted out loud. _Fat chance._ Last night, she'd turned a corner. The man had pulled her in and she'd let him. As far as Aidy was concerned, there was no going back now, no more pretending she didn't care. The injured Irishman needed a friend? Well, now he had one, whether he wanted her or not.

Of course, being the good friend she was, Aidy wasn't about to let him run out on her and not have to face the consequences of that action. If she wasn't firm, how would he ever learn? She checked to make sure the door was locked, then let herself out through the garage. Hitting the button and making a dash for it as the big door came lumbering down. Once in her car, she weighed her options. Where would David go if he wanted to run away? _A bottle._ But that wasn't the case, as he'd left the scotch on the coffee table. _His office._ there, David could hide behind his case files and an officious sneer. It was as good a place as any to start.

With the midday traffic, it took Adeliene an hour and some change to get to the tall building. It felt odd pulling into her parking space on her day off - like she didn't belong somehow. The tech shook off the feeling and made her way up to DDA McNorris's office. The door was closed when she reached it, but she didn't bother knocking, just let herself in as it was unlocked. Unfortunately, it was also as empty as David's house had been.

Aidy checked her watch and chewed the inside of her cheek. He was probably out to lunch. She decided to wait and plopped herself down on the couch (which was indeed more comfortable than it looked). After staring into space for ten minutes or so, the girl grew bored and regained her feet.

Why sit and stare at nothing when there was a perfectly good TV not ten feet away? Finding the remote proved a bit of a problem. Yes, she could have just used the buttons _on_ the TV, but she wasn't a _barbarian,_ after all. The device was not resting on top of the television, as logic would dictated. Nor was it on any of the bookshelves in the room. Aidy tugged back McNorris's desk chair and sat, pulling out his desk draws one by one in search of the control. She idly wondered if this would be considered a crime.

The girl didn't find the remote, but she did spy David's planner laying open on the desk top. She pulled it closer and checked the man's schedule for the day. _One-thirty: Sharky._

"Sharky?" the tech said out loud, blinking owlishly at the book. "What the Hell's a Sharky?" She muttered to herself, flipping through the other pages in the planner. There it was, over and over; Sharky - two, sometimes three times a week. She cocked her head to the side in puzzlement. _Sharky?_

Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, Aidy rocked back and forth in the chair, trying to figure out the meaning behind it. She spun the chair absently. As she turned, her eyes flicked over the room at random and came across the speed bag hung incongruously in the corner. _Oh!_ She looked back at the bag. _"I try to get into the ring at least twice a week."_ The girl smirked and flipped to the back of the planner. Sure enough, there was a section of plastic, sleeved pages meant to hold important business cards. _High Side Gym - Proprietor: Carl "Sharky" Robertson. Phone number._ Aidy flicked her phone open and dialed.

"High Side. Can I help you?"

She smiled. "Hi. Where are you located?"

* * *

It was warm and sunny outside, humid from the rain the night before. Inside High Side Gym, it was stifling. Not to mention the rather unpleasant, if almost subtle smell of sweat. Lots of sweat. Aidy fought the urge to wrinkle her nose. Several men and a couple women were training with heavy bags, speed bags, jump ropes, weights, and various other equipment. An average sized, average looking man with huge forearms sat behind a desk just inside the entrance. He looked up when Aidy approached.

"Can I help you?" The man had a thick Brooklyn accent to go along with his bluish-black hair and olive skin. Though they looked nothing alike, the man put her in mind of Ant'ny and she smiled at him a little bright than perhaps she would have normally.

"I'm looking for David McNorris. He's supposed to have an appointment with Sharky," she told the man in her Polite voice. She could see in his dark eyes that he'd immediately warmed to her. The combination of smile, bright eyes, and sweet toe tended to make an endearing impression on persons who dealt with rude people all day.

"Yeah, they'd be in the ring," the man told her, lips curving into a smile of his own. "Just head straight back."

The girl kicked her smiled and sparkling eyes up a notch as she thanked him and made her way back towards the ring. Sure enough, David was inside with a burly red-head she had to assume was Sharky. Standing aside the ring for a moment, Aidy watched the men spar, coming to the conclusion that David really was quite a poor boxer.

Something was off about it, though. He would come out hard on offense, then back off, but offer up a weak defense at best. Half the time, he didn't even block shots _she_ could see coming. The third time his head snapped back from a jab, Sharky danced away.

"Maybe we should take a break, Mick," the trainer suggested.

"What, you winded already?" the blonde snarked. His words were flippant and challenging, but he was panting heavily and his movements almost sluggish. He motioned for the other man to come at him. As Sharky approached, it clicked in Aidy's head what exactly was going on. David was _letting_ the trainer beat him up.

"David!" she called sharply, stepping up onto the apron. The men inside the ring turned to her.

"What are you doing here?" McNorris demanded, sounding very displeased indeed. Adeliene couldn't have been less intimidated.

"We need to talk," she said. _And this little display of masochism needs to stop,_ she didn't.

"I'm a little busy right now," he told her with an air of finality, turning back to Sharky and reengaging the sparring. He let the trainer land a flurry of hard body blows, falling back against the ropes for support before Sharky backed off again, giving him a moment to recuperate. Neither man noticed the girl duck between the ropes. The did notice when she stepped boldly between them, without an ounce of hesitation.

"Excuse us," she said to the red-head. Aidy did not wait for his response before turning to face McNorris. "I said we need to talk, David, and that means _now_."

He glared at her from within the somewhat ridiculous confines of his headgear, intending to argue the point. However, Sharky left the ring, leaving David with very little choice in the matter. He relented, obviously drained from the beating he allowed the other man to give him. The episode with Joel the day Ray had been taken hostage made loads more sense now. David had looked spoiling for a fight - he was probably always spoiling for a fight; a chance for someone to give him the physical pain he longed for.

"Fine," he said, sounding irritated, almost petulant. He stripped off his gloves, tucking them under one arm with a wince, then reached up to remove the headgear. "So, talk."

With these new realizations about the man before her bouncing around in her head like pinballs, Aidy found it was hard to focus on what she came here to say.

"It was rather cowardly of you to run out on me this morning," she told him, crossing her arms disapprovingly. David was flushed and breathing heavily from the sparring, so there was no tell-tale reddening of the ears to give away his reaction. He just looked at her in a mildly unimpressed way.

"I didn't want to-"

"Wake you up," she said with him. He pressed his lips together, forming a tight, bloodless line. "Yes, you mentioned that several times last night."

His expression hardened further. "Last night was a mistake."

Adeliene took a step towards him. "You've done a lot of things in the last twenty-four hours that were _definitively_ mistakes, David," she said, her voice as hard as his expression. "Calling me was not one of them."

That statement actually got a reaction. His pale brows shot up, blue, blue eyes widening slightly in surprise. For an instant he was completely open and Aidy could see how much her acceptance really mean to the man. Then, the alarm sounded in his head and his emotions when into lockdown, shutting out her and the rest of the world. It didn't matter. The tech now knew what was going on behind those baby blues.

"I should apologize for my behavior," the DDA sad, his voice as cold as his eyes now were. Trying to distance himself, push her away. The girl almost smiled. McNorris had no idea just how stubborn she could be.

"You should," she agreed, keeping her voice serious, but not accusing. "And you should go to church and seek forgiveness for your sins. But I'm not here to talk about what you did wrong, David. Not right now."

"Then what do you want? You want money? For your silence?"

She snorted, swallowing the laugh his absurd suggestion evoked. She _did_ allow an amused smile to curve her lips.

"You can drop the act, David," the girl told him, with total sincerity. "You really can. You called me, I came. I'm not going to run _or_ let you push me away. I'm here. And now that you know it, you'll have no excuse when you need someone. You have me."

Then, she shocked the blonde man again when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders in a quick, but very real hug. Her cheek pressed against his chest and the girl ignored the fact that he was hot and sweaty and didn't exactly smell like a bed of roses. He didn't hug her back, but she hadn't expected him to. The gesture was simply the emotional exclamation point on the statement she'd made.

Aidy pulled back and without another word, left the ring and the gym itself. As she stepped into the hot sun, the tech thought to herself, _Lisa would be proud,_ and was surprised how little the thought hurt. A dull ache, as opposed to the blinding pain she would have expected.

Lisa_ would_ be proud, but oddly, Lisa was the one who'd had all the hard work to do. Aidy had been the Damaged Dave in their relationship - self-destructive, self-loathing. Lisa had broken through the other girl's walls all those long years ago when they were still in high school She'd seen right through to Adeliene Creed's broken soul, seen far more than Aidy herself could see, and had not given up.

Lisa, the best friend Aidy had ever had, the best person she'd ever known.

Adeliene went straight home to her apartment, slowly going over long buried memories in her mind. She carefully examined each one, ready to slam the door shut the moment that horrible anguish came back. She walked through the living room to the apartment's one bedroom - which also served as her "office"- and pulled a photo album from its place on the top shelf in the back of her closet. Almost on its own, the book fell open to the place she sought and Lisa Menossi's warm brown eyes laughed up at her from the page. Tears prickled at Aidy's eyes, but she held the book open a moment longer.

"I miss you," she whispered to the still image of her friend. She snapped the album shut along with that inner door, sliding the bolt tight into place. Some things were best left buried.


	12. Baby Steps

**Okay. wow.. that took WAY to long to get done. I apologize. I started it, then restarted it half a dozen times. I was just really unhappy with where it went. But this final incarnation makes me happy. So enjoy!**

Jesus. Joel, what the Hell were you thinking?" Aidy was practically glaring at the detective. He'd come to her lab for a tox report and the lab tech had greeted him with that question. But, then, the man deserved it after the stunt he had pulled - assaulting a suspect on video. He half chuckled, smiling at her in that almost shy way of his that told her he was amused.

"I was thinking that I know what I'm doing," he told her, enigmatically. _Oh! So, the boy's got a plan then._ Joel was a smart cookie, Aidy knew, so the fact that he had something in the works eased her mind a great deal. For a bad moment, she'd thought he had gone stupid. Her expression changed to one of shrewd curiosity.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" He shook his head.

"Nope. It's one of those things it's better you don't know."

Giving him a look of pouty petulance, she half whined, "But those are the best kind!" Adeliene handed over the report she knew he'd come for as he chuckled softly over the statement. "For your sake, I hope you _do_ know what you're doing."

Joel nodded. "Me, too." His warm eyes narrowed at her ever so slightly. "On the same subject - hoping people know what they are doing - I hear you've been spending a lot of time with DDA McNorris. You sure that's wise?"

"Wise?" Aidy snorted. "Probably not. I could have picked a simpler way to spend my time."

"Aidy-"

She cut the man off with a smile. "Everyone is so concerned about the company I keep. You're the fourth person to talk to me about this."

His gaze was sincere when he asked, "Are you noticing a pattern?"

"Yes," the girl confirmed, nodding thoughtfully. "None of my friends think much of my judgment or intelligence. Which hurts." She put on a mocked hurtful expression.

"That's not what we're saying," Joel protested.

"I know, I know," Aidy assured him,. "You're just worried about me." She waved her hand at nothing, as if shooing away the idea. "I appreciated the sentiment, but I'm not some gullible little chit and McNorris ain't Svengali." Aidy snorted and Joel chucked again. She began to organize some papers on her desk. "The guy just needs a friend."

"So, you're just friends, then?" Though his tone was even and his question reasonable, Aidy knew he was thinking incredulous thoughts.

"Give me a little credit, Stevens," she said with a smirk. "The last thing I want, need, or would do is to get involved with someone like David. I want someone whose gonna take care of _me_, not the other way around."

It was that half-derogatory statement that seemed to put the detective at ease. Adeliene was relieved. When she'd had this conversation with Ray two says before, she'd eventually just given up and told him to mind his own damned business and feed his Krispy Kreme habit, because he was grouchy when he's jonesin'. Which, somehow, had maintained the good will between them, but - as a side effect- had increased the officer's already considerable animosity towards the Deputy DA.

The Deputy DA, who had just entered her lab.

"Well, speak of the Devil," Joel quipped. David smiled engagingly.

"Oh, come on, detective, lawyers aren't the Devil," he reminded the other man. "We just work for him."

Joel chuckled, lifting a hand to Aidy in parting, and left the room.

"Just work for him?" Aidy asked with a grin. "Like a mall Santa?"

David laughed. "That's cute. I'll have to remember that one," he said with a smile. "So, I got your message." He took a Post-It from his suit jacket pocket and held it up to read. "Be at my lab before five or I'll come and find you. And I know a guy." Aidy grinned at the monotone way he spoke the message she had left for him with his secretary. "It's a good thing Tracy isn't the suspicious type. She might get the wrong idea."

Aidy snorted, shutting down her computer and gathering her things. "Speaking which, how goes things with Marian?"

David's eyes fell away from hers. "Not good," he told her as he opened the door and gestured for her to pass. "She's still not answering her phone, not returning my calls. Not that I blame her."

"Blame's got nothing to do with it." Aidy turned to regard him seriously as they waited for the elevator. "She doesn't know about your father, does she?"

Pale brows shot up towards equally pale hair. "Know what?" the lawyer asked, evasively. That was all the answer she needed. Her earlier hunch had been right and Mrs. Marian knew nothing of her husband's damaged core. Nothing specific anyway; there was no way she didn't know something was very wrong inside David McNorris. Aidy let the subject go for now, knowing better than to push him when his walls were up.

Once safely cloistered in the elevator and on their way to the parking garage, David turned to her. "So, what's on the Fixing David McNorris agenda for tonight?" he asked. She smirked.

It was true, Adeliene had been doing her best to try and put a few things that were out of joint in David's life back into their proper places. At first, he had resisted, but he'd finally given in. She knew it wasn't because she was so persistent, but she did wonder if it was because her efforts made him feel better or if he was just lonely. Since officially becoming David's friend, Aidy had broken his anti-social habit of working through lunch almost completely. And even managed to get him out of the office and/or house for an evening once in a while. She couldn't be with him all the time, though, and knew he still drank himself to sleep every night. It made her twist inside to think about it, but it wasn't anything she could fix. Not instantly, anyway. One step at a time.

"Remember how I said you need a hobby?"

"Constantly."

She smiled. "Well, I know you play hockey. Dashle plays for this amateur league team and they are holding try-outs for their season tonight."

The blonde man held up his hands, warding her off. "Oh, no. You want me to join a hockey league?" he scoffed. "I'm a DA. I don't have time to skate around with a bunch of-"

Aidy held up a warning finger. "Before you say anything insulting, remember I just told you it's Dashle's team." He took the hint and didn't finish the sentence. The doors opened and they stepped into the garage, heading for their cars. "A lot of the men in the league are professional types - doctors, stock brokers, even _lawyers_. I didn't say you had to do it. Just come with us."

"Us?" They both paused, for this was where they would have to split up to get to their assigned parking spaces. DDA's get much better parking than lab technicians.

"The rink is only closed for tryouts for about an hour before closing. Megan and the kids are going. I was invited along. I invited you along. Just talk to Dashle about it. If you try out, fine, if not, fine." She made a cutting motion with her hands to indicate that would be the end of the discussion. "But it'll be fun. Besides," she gave him a shy smile, eyes twinkling impishly. "I need someone to teach me how to skate. And Gaelen is too small."

He joined her in a laugh at the image of the child trying to keep her on her feet on the ice. Then, David lifted and dropped his hands in defeat. "Okay. I'll go. No promises on the league, though." He gave her a pointed look with those eyes of his and she nodded, gave him the address of the rink and time, and they both went their separate ways.

* * *

"Ah!" FWUMP! Whine. "Ow, my junk trunk!"

"What?"

Aidy glared up into obnoxiously blue eyes, which was hard to pull off because she was still grinning. She took the hand David offered and hissed to him as he pulled her to her rather unsteady feet.

"I'm surrounded by kids, man! I can't say 'ass'."

Gaelen -who stood patiently nearby- giggled, hand over his mouth, looking absolutely adorable. David grinned at the boy. "So much for that plan."

Adeliene laughed and wagged her finger at Dashle's youngest. "You didn't hear that from me, you understand?" He shook his head, grinning like the imp he was and skated off as nimbly as an ice pixie in Fantasia. The girl groaned, watching him with envious eyes. "Why not me?" she pouted. David laughed again.

"You're not doing terrible for your first try," he assured her. He held both of her hands and skated backwards before the girl, leading her across the calm center portion of the ice, safely away from the circling people who knew how to skate.

"For a lawyer, you're a terrible liar," she muttered, eyes on her traitorous rental skates. _Like roller blading my ass!_ McNorris chuckled and Aidy kept hating him for being so at ease on the ice, where she was about as graceful as a hippo.

Though he'd been a bit aloof and uncomfortable around Dashle's family, it hadn't taken David very long to loosen up once Aidy got him out on the ice. It wasn't all her, though, Gaelen had helped a great deal. The boy was just naturally gregarious and obviously loved to see people smile. Ten minutes on the ice and he had David spinning him in circles, skates swinging through the air. This, of course, drew RJ and Maya like flies and soon David had the good will of all three Hermes children.

"I suck," Adeliene said forlornly. The blonde's brows furrowed and he smiled sympathetically.

"You'll get better with practice," he promised.

"How would you know? You were born knowing how to skate," she accused. He chuckled, carefully drawing her forward. The man really did move across the frozen surface like he'd always known how. He was totally at home on the rink and it showed. His smiles came easily and every one was genuine. He laughed and the shadows Aidy always saw in his eyes, while not gone, were definitely driven back. He was not DDA McNorris or Damaged Dave, though both of those incarnations were still present below the surface, he was just David.

It made her happy to see him at ease. Even his clothing was the most relaxed she'd ever seen him don, with the exception of the pajamas she, herself, had dressed him in. David wore simple jeans, that looked like this was maybe the fourth him he'd ever put them on, and a black pull-over with a zippered neck. He looked almost like a different person when he wasn't in a suit and every time the girl saw him thus, she was taken aback at the transformation. David might look dapper in a three piece, but if given the choice, Adeliene would go with flannel PJs or jeans any day.

"Bend your knees a little, don't be so stiff," the man instructed gently, for the third time. Aidy made an impatient sound.

"Last time I did that, I ended up on my ashtribula," she reminded him unhappily, but it only made him grin incredulously at her.

"Now, you're just making words up."

"Hush, McNorris!" she warned, then squeaked when one of her skates almost came out from under her. "Son of a! That's it, I quit. Take me back to the benches."

The man gave her a look of somber disappointment. "Quitter," he accused.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I just said that. And don't look at me in that tone of voice. I'm the one who's go bruises all over my tailgate." David grinned. She tried not to be annoyed that he found her euphemisms so endlessly amusing, but it was difficult in her current bruised and generally disgruntled state. He slide easily behind her. "What are you doing?"

She would have turned to look at him, but knew from before -when Gaelen had called her name- that it would only end with her on her tush again. David placed a steadying hand on her shoulder for a moment before resting both his paws lightly on her hips.

"Skate. If you fall, I'll catch you and then you won't hurt your stern," he said, giving her a little push.

"Oh, that's clever." Aidy did as he said, tentatively propelling herself forward in a small oval.

"There, see? Now, bend your knees."

She smiled as she made it around her tiny circuit a whole two times. But her ass was magnetically attracted to the ice and it took massive amounts of concentration to keep the two apart. David skated just behind her, giving a constant stream of feedback on her form and words of encouragement. Gaelen came shooting passed with Dashle and gave her a big double thumbs up before the two zoomed away again.

"He really is a cute kid," McNorris said. Aidy nodded, lip caught between her teeth.

"He likes you."

"Everyone likes me."

The girl snorted at his cocky tone. "For some reason, I had the idea you were one of those guys that's- Whoa!" One skate slipped beneath her and she would have gone down if not for the bracing hands David curled around her waist. His mitts were pleasantly warm against her in the cold air of place. Once she was steady again, he let go and dropped back a little.

"One of those guys that?" he prompted.

"Is uncomfortable around kids," the tech finished her thought.

"I love kids," he admonished. "Where would you get that idea?"

She shrugged. "Must be the suit and the foofy furniture. I really hate your house, David," the girl said, glancing over her shoulder. "It's _pink._" She said that as if it were an offense against nature.

"Well, I didn't buy it for me," he said. She knew he was about to get maudlin, thinking about the incommunicative Marian.

"Well, that much is obvious. You're more of a periwinkle kinda guy." Her quip had the desired effect and he chuckled. While Aidy encouraged the man to talk about Marian and their problems, skating around an ice rink, surrounded by happy people, was not the proper time nor place. Especially when he should be focusing on keeping her vertical. "You're getting the hang of it," he told her, sounding almost proud. Adeliene's mind was suddenly dominated by the rather sweet image of David coaching his own child this way. An adorable little boy or girl with his eyes and charming smile.

"You're jinxing me," she warned. But in saying, she'd jinxed herself. Her skate hit a slick patch of ice and she lost her balance. With an undignified squeal, her hands went up and the rest of her went down.

"Oof!" She had landed on something firm and warm and oofy instead of the unforgivingly hard glacial surface. "I think you broke my spleen."

She laughed, tilting her head back and to the side to look at the man beneath her back. "Myyyyyyy hero!" she cooed with a grin. David scoffed and gave her shoulders and ineffectual shove. He'd slid forward as she fell and cushioned her landing rather chivalrously. The two now lay on the ice, arms and legs akimbo, Aidy laughing at her savior.

Dashle had apparently seen them go down, and came skating over with Megan and the kids. He offered her a hand up. She accepted - begrudgingly, because he was laughing at her. He and Megan helped her back to the side of the rink and over to the benches so she could remove the evil, evil rental skates, while David limped dramatically behind, aided by Gaelen and a giggling, blushing Maya.

"If I don't make the cut now, it's your fault," McNorris told her, smirking and rubbing his thigh where she had landed on him the hardest.

"So, you are going to try out?" Dashle asked. David shrugged, looking thoughtful.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," he admitted. The two men wandered off to discuss manly, hockey things, leaving the women and chillun behind. Megan helped Aidy remove her skates while RJ helped Gaelen, somewhat wobbly, to the men's room.

"He's not what I expected," she of the crazy red curls told the tech, obviously referring to David. "The way you two talk about him, I was expecting some uptight jackass."

Maya giggled over her mother's mild profanity and gazed after David and her father.

"He is," Adeliene informed her, sighing with massive relief when she could wiggle her toes freely again. "When he's at work." _And whenever you say something that makes him a little uncomfortable, and when he's in a bad mood, and..._ "When he's not all stressed out, David's not a bad guy at all."

"Makes you being friends with him a lot more understandable," Megan told her. The girl shrugged noncommittally.

"He's fun," Maya said, cheeks pink. Both Aidy and Megan tried to hide their grins.

"Yes," the child's mother said, obviously trying not to sound amused. "He's fun."

David did try out for Dashle's team, the Ice Rays. The captain told him they would be making their final decisions that night and would give him a call the following day to let him know if he made the cut. Dashle gave him a grin then that told Aidy McNorris didn't need to worry his pretty, blonde head over whether he'd passed muster or not. The little voice in her head (that sounded painfully like Lisa) chuckled very like a cartoon villain and rubbed her hands - if a voice in your head could rub its hands. _Excellent._ It was a big step, assuming he actually kept on with the team. It solved the problem of getting him manly friends. Adeliene could be many things for David, but an actual dude was not one of them.

As the two headed to their cars, they chatted happily about the events of the evening.

"That little one, Gaelen is quiet taken with you."

The girl smiled affectionately. "He's a cutie."

"You know, he warned me away from you," David told her, eyes twinkling even in the crappy yellowish light thrown by the parking lot lights. "He pulled me aside and told me I can't marry you, because he is going to when he turns ten."

Adeliene's brow furrowed and she made a loud "awe" sound at the adorableness of that. "That's the cutest thing ever!" The man chuckled, jingling his keys. It was an action she might have called nervous in another person. And it might have been accurate, given the way his expression became suddenly sincere.

"Thank you, Aidy," he said, then, voice matching his face. "For tonight, for everything. I might not show it, but it does mean a lot to me."

She smiled, giving him a reassuring pat on his upper arm. "It shows, David."

Her internal Lisa crowed with triumph at the little exchange as McNorris waved good-bye and headed off to his car. She had been telling the truth, it did show. But that didn't mean they didn't still have a long way to go, or that one mistake could fuck the whole thing up and she'd have to start all over again. _Being a good friend is hard work._ She frowned at the voice as she unlocked her own car.

"Shut up," she told the voice once she was safely in her car and no one would find it insane that she was talking to herself. "You're dead."

_Dead is a relative term._ That sounded just like something Lisa would say, too. Damn.

* * *

**Like it? The idea was to show another side of David, I hope you all enjoyed it like i did. Hopefully the next chapter will come easier. -crosses fingers- thanks for being patient!**


	13. Phantoms

**Well, golly. That sure took a while. Sorry, everyone. I had a bit of writer's block. Hopefully, it's cleared upfor good. or atleast until I finish the two fics ive got going. enjoy.**

She could smell it. Okay, she couldn't _really_ smell it, but she could _smell_ it. Charred flesh and bone and hair and cloth. One of the most awful combinations of odors in creation. Aidy looked at the pictures in the evidence file- the young man who had been burned in the meth lab explosion- and she could smell it.

Obviously, she couldn't see herself at the moment, but something in her expression must have prompted Daschle to step up behind her and gently take the folder and photos from her hands.

"Babe," he said softly, setting the now closed file aside and swiveling her stool around so she faced him. "Maybe you should go ahead and take a break, hmm?"

Normally, she'd have jokingly told her friend where he could shove his break, that she was fine and perfectly capable of sucking it up and doing her job.

But not this time.

She nodded mutely, casting him a look of gratitude as she slipped off the stool and headed out of the office. She took the elevator to the parking garage. A little air, that's all she needed to clear her head. Then, she could steel herself and get back to work.

Aidy leaned against a concrete pillar not far from the elevator and took several slow, deep breaths. The scents of car exhaust, rubber, and the vague hint of gasoline weren't what one might call pleasant, but were infinitely preferable to the phantom odor that haunted her senses.

Back in her days as a bright, shining, up and coming trainee at Quantico, she'd had the joy of witnessing her first autopsy. Aidy had been to her father's funeral as a girl, but that serenely posed display had been nothing like the mangled and charred corpse that awaited her years later. But everyone had to have a first, and Adeliene's had been Lee Quong, a Chinese immigrant who had set himself on fire on the steps of the church where his estranged daughter was marrying a black man. Things were fucking rough all over, apparently.

A cacophony of voices drew her attention now and she idly wandered over to see what all the hubbub was about. She made her way to the street entrance of the garage and saw a cluster of reporters and camera men gathered around one Deputy DA David McNorris, who was currently fielding questions with his usual self-assured, reassuring air.

Some bottle blonde up front - from Channel 6 according to the logo on her microphone- chimed in at just the right moment. "Who was the arresting officer on the original domestic disturbance call?"

David seemed almost to hesitate before answering, "That would be Ray Hechler."

If she didn't know better, Adeliene would have thought McNorris hadn't expected the question. But she did know better and was not surprised when News Reporter Barbie came back with, "Wasn't Hechler implicated in the Vista Heights police corruption scandal?"

"Well, Lauren, the Vista Heights police corruption _investigation_ is ongoing, so I can't comment on that." _David, you son of a bitch._ Aidy scowled at them both, though neither could see her. "But, what I can comment on, though, is this: A man was murdered today while on police property and I am determined to find out why that happened." His cell began to ring at that point and he thanked the reporters in close of the conference. Media summarily dismissed and his moment in the spotlight finished for now, David started for his car as he answered the phone. It was then that Aidy noticed Andrea Little standing off to the side, taking notes. _Well, this just keeps getting better and better._

David muttered something into the phone that Aidy could not hear as he headed down the entrance ramp to where he was parked. Andrea hurried to catch up to him and gain his attention. Since the two of them were moving ever closer to where Aidy stood, partially concealed by the concrete wall of the garage, she had no trouble overhearing the conversation.

"Can I get a statement?" the reporter ask, catching David's attention. He turned towards Little and Aidy could see the irrational yearning in his eyes, even with the disdain and self disgust that accompanied it. "You mentioned Ray Hechler's name in your press conference, do you actually have anything linking him to McBride's murder?"

David opened his trunk and deposited his briefcase, waiting until he'd slapped it shut before replying with a smarmy, "Why would I tell you?"

Andrea rolled her eyes in response and turned to leave with a sarcastic, "Thanks."

For an instant, Aidy thought David might do the smart thing and let it go, but this was David we're talking about. "For the record," he called after his departing ex-mistress. "I didn't mention Ray's name. I didn't bring it up."

Little stopped and turned around, coming back down the ramp. Aidy could see the catty look in her eyes, hear it in her voice when she started in on McNorris.

"You know, David, your little routine with that walking blonde joke from Channel 6 was so transparent, it was… breathtaking. 'Do you suspect foul play?' 'Why no, Barbie, it was just a really bad shaving accident'."

David's smarm seemed to intensify. "Are you jealous?" Aidy had to make a conscious effort not to make a loud noise of disgust. _Ugh!_

Andrea scoffed, unable to respond for a moment. _Jesus, they're so transparent it's pathetic._ Not breathtaking, pathetic. "Of what?"

"That I may be sleeping with her. I mean there's nothing stopping me, now. I am a single man." Aidy rolled her eyes. Andrea had a bit more of a reaction, acting like he just told her she was getting a ticket for jaywalking - anger and disbelief.

"If you are," she shot back, snarkily. "I suggest you check her ID; I think I have shoes older than her." The woman started to walk away again, and again David called after her.

"I'm not sleeping with her." Andrea turned, coming around the front of his car to stand directly in front of him so that only she and David - and Aidy, but they didn't know it - could hear.

"And another thing," she told him seriously. "You _can't_ go after the cops again."

"Really? Why not?" McNorris was in full I'll-do-what-I-want-and-you-can't-stop-me mode. The tech knew this was a smokescreen; something David did to cover what was really going on. He was just as unhappy with the situation as everyone else was. Aidy just didn't know why, yet.

"Because they're gonna make your life a living Hell if you don't have the goods," Andrea warned. Aidy couldn't see David's face, but she knew he didn't even bat an eyelash.

"And that would be different, how?" he asked. Apparently, he'd had enough of the conversation at that point and opened the door to his car, climbing in without a word of parting to the reporter.

"You're making a mistake," she told him, walking away. "And you _know_ it."

David sat in his car, watching her leave the garage. Aidy moved forward, knowing the other woman would not look back now, lest David see it and know how he was under her skin. And he was, that much was plainly obvious. The girl rested her hand on the roof of his car, bending over at the waist to peer in the open passenger side window.

"You'd better not be sleeping with her," she warned. David whirled in his seat to face her, surprised. He then grinned with feigned sheepishness. Charming bastard.

"Am I not allowed to explore my options?" he asked. The tech rolled her eyes again at his cheeky tone.

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" she responded adroitly, then pointed a warning finger at him. "Friends don't keep random and embarrassing hook-ups from each other."

He chuckled. "So, you'd tell Daschle about it if you went to bed with someone you met in a bar?"

Aidy snorted. "There are so many things wrong with that question, David," she told the man. This caused pale brows to go up in inquiry, so she expounded. "One, I don't drink. Two, I don't like crowds. Three, I think your average L.A. male is rather ridiculous in one or more very unappealing ways. And four, I don't do that sort of thing."

"Have sex?" Adeliene knew that quick fire response was meant to trip her up. One of David's tricky lawyer moves. They never seemed to work on her though.

"Exactly." The blunt reply brought the man up short and Aidy smiled inside her mouth. His eyes widened in the most enjoyable way when he was surprised.

"You want to run that by me again?"

"Not really,"" she said, dismissively. And she really didn't. She wanted to address the current problem now, before it had a chance to germinate. _Nip it in the bud_, Don Knot's voice said in her mind. "So, do you talk to Andrea Little behind my back a lot or…?" He spoke up immediately, as she'd known he would.

"I wasn't talking to her behind your back," McNorris protested.

"But you weren't going to tell me about it," she quickly fired back, using his own trick against him. His only choice now was to be an open book or admit he was sneaking around - after which, Aidy would demand to know what he was hiding. Either way, she got her answers.

"I haven't spoken to Andrea since that night," he told her. His brows furrowed, as if just realizing something. "Do you want to maybe get in the car?"

She did as he suggested, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door. "Go on."

It was a rare thing to see David McNorris at a loss for words. "Go on, what? I haven't spoken to her. I haven't seen her."

"Do you want to be with your wife?" the girl asked, point blank. David blinked.

"Of course, I do," he said, sounding a little insulted. Aidy nodded.

"I just want to be sure. Because when you trade snarky comments with your former mistress and make insinuations geared to make her jealous, it throws all your talk of making up with Marian into suspect." He opened his mouth to speak, but Aidy didn't need to hear the words to know what they would mean - his expression said it all. "I'm your friend. I don't care if you want to get divorced, I don't care if you want to sleep your way through the phone book. Just don't lie to me about it. There's no reason for you to lie to me. Simple enough, right?"

David's mouth closed and he seemed to contemplate her statement. After a moment, he nodded. Whether he would actually take the request to heart was another matter. "You want to get some lunch?" he asked, out of nowhere. Aidy looked at her watch with a small laugh.

"It's nearly four o'clock, David. A little late for lunch, don't you think?" He smiled and immediately she knew something was off. Something, but she couldn't place it.

"You're right. Time flies, huh?" He started the car. The girl took that as a signal that he was ready to leave and opened the door, stepping out of the car. After she closed it, the tech leaned down to peer in the window again.

"Gimme a call later," she told him. "We'll get some dinner."

David nodded. "Sure. I'll give you a call."

As he drove away, a knot grew in Aidy's stomach. He wasn't going to call. Dammit.

* * *

Her phone rang around nine that night. She snatched it up and answered it without checking the display. "Yeah?"

"Aidy?" came Joel's voice. Damn. Should have checked the caller ID.

"Yeah, Joel? What's up." She ran her fingers through her hair. She had tried calling David three times already, but his phone wasn't on, so it was useless.

"I'm in the Blue Tavern on Davis and you're boy McNorris just walked in," he told her, voice not really foreboding, but definitely conveying that he thought it was a really bad idea. "He looks like maybe he's had a few already."

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh of displeasure at the news, though inside she was relieved to finally know where he was and what he was up to. She'd been half right - drinking. The upside was that he was alone.

"You should probably come collect him before he gets himself into trouble," Joel advised.

"Yeah. I'm on my way," the tech told him as she stood up, looking for her shoes. "Joel, please don't let him do anything stupid."

The man on the other end of the line chuckled. "I'll do my best," he said in that very Joel way of his, which caused her to smile.

"Thanks."

When Aidy arrived at the Blue Tavern, she saw David's car parked not far away and breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't find him inside the actual establishment. A familiar laugh drew her attention and she saw Ray and Tom enjoying a couple beers at the bar. Ray was leaning forward on the bar, while Tom was lounging back against it, facing the room. He saw her and elbowed Ray to get his attention. Aidy approached them as Ray turned around on his stool to face her with that shit-eating smirk of his.

"Well, look who's here. Perhaps you can detect the lingering stench of Irish scumbag lawyer," he said amicably. The girl rolled her eyes.

"Where is he?"

Tom spoke up, looking rather pleased with himself. "You just missed him. Joel had to carry his ass out of here."

She nodded, turning to go. Joel would have taken David home, which explained why his car was still parked outside.

"How can you stand that guy?" Ray asked, a little too loudly. Oh no. No way she was gonna let him try to embarrass her. Aidy turned back, moving to stand close enough and speak low enough so that only Ray and Tom could hear. She wasn't so much pissed off as mildly irritated and not about to let him get way with this crap. Ray was a good guy, he just needed a kick in the ass now and then.

"Do you really think McNorris is stupid enough to _want_ to pick fights with the LAPD? You think he _wants_ to be on bad terms with the police?" she asked, voice firm and lightly incredulous. Neither Ray not Tom had a response to that. "He has a boss, like everyone else. And even I know that the DA has it in for the Chief of Police. It doesn't take much to put two and two together." It was all speculation. She didn't know any of this for certain, but it was the only explanation. David wasn't stupid and knew full well how much a prosecutor needed the cops to work with him and not against him. The next thing she said was just as unconfirmed, but again, she knew David, so knew she must be right. "McNorris doesn't think you're dirty, Ray. If he did, he'd be on you like white on rice. All the time. And you know it."

Tom piped up. "Then why's he always making little comments, implying crap?"

Ray added, "If he doesn't think I'm dirty, why doesn't he just say so?"

The girl licked her lips and gave him a sober look. "You're not very nice, Ray. Maybe he just doesn't like you." With that, she left. As she headed for the door, Aidy could hear the two of them talking.

"I don't know what she's talking about," Ray said, feigning insult. "I'm very nice."

Tom chuckled. "You are."

"It's why my mom named me Ray. Of sunshine."

Aidy chuckled to herself as she pulled the door to the bar open and stepped back into the night. Those two would never get along. There was just no hope for it. Especially, with David's boss who he was. Aidy wondered, as she drove towards the McNorris home, if forcing David to insinuate that Ray was involved in a homicide and bring up Vista Heights again was some kind of punishment for David's breakdown and attack on Ron Burman.

The tech pulled into the driveway in front of that awful pink house just as Joel was closing the front door. She parked and climbed out of her car as he approached. That half-amused look was on his face and it somehow always made her feel better to be around him when he looked like that.

"He's inside on the couch. He's pretty close to passed out, if not already," the detective said. She nodded.

"Thanks, Joel. I owe you one."

Now, he nodded, glancing back towards the house and shoving his hands into his pockets. "You're a good friend, Aidy."

The girl smiled. _I try_. "So are you, Joel." He only continued to smile, then nodded in parting and headed for his car. She lifted her hand in a wave before making her way up the drive and walk way to the house. Inside, David was indeed sprawled face first on the couch, moaning to himself pitifully. "You're an idiot."

The blonde lifted his head, looking up at her with glazed eyes. "Hey! When did you get here?" he asked in pleasant surprise, struggling to push himself upright. She came around the couch, helping him to roll over, then gasped.

"What happened to your eye?" The tech sat on the coffee table, gently inspecting the injury.

"I attacked a stool." She rolled her eyes.

"I reiterate my previous statement." David chuckled, grunting when she prodded his eyebrow lightly.

"Don't use such big words," he admonished, words slurring quite a bit.

"You're gonna get a black eye," she told him. The girl stood, heading into the kitchen for a bottle of water.

"That's what Detective Stevens said," the drunken man on the couch called after her.

"Well, he was right," Aidy said, coming back with the water. She held it out to David. "Drink this."

He did as he was told, downing the water in between semi-coherent ramblings about nothing in particular. "Oh! Hey, you know what I told Detective Stevens? About Marian?"

She shook her head. "No. I wasn't with you and Joel, David."

His face pinched in confusion for a moment before he shook it off. "Doesn't matter. It's about Andrea anyway. I was with her, cheated with her, because I wanted someone to want me. I figured it out."

Adeliene sighed, running a hand through her hair. She knew exactly why David had cheated with Andrea, but she wasn't about to try to have a real, in depth conversation with him in his current state. Instead, she simply told him that was great and to finish his water. Then she waited for him to settle down and gave him a pillow. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch over himself and promptly passed out.

Lovely. Aidy ran a hand over her face, trying to decide if she should leave or not. He didn't seem like he was in any kind of danger, like he had been that night he'd drunk dialed her. But still, you never knew. Sighed in resignation, she stood and got a blanket from the hall closet. Instead of sitting in one of Marian's foofy, yet comfortable chairs, she went with the easy chair that sat on the other side of the door. Which was extremely comfy _and_ a recliner. In no time, she was drifting off, Lisa singing lullabies in her head. _Dude, shut up._


End file.
